


A Change of Plans

by Mwppff



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Again, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blood and Gore, Boba Fett Has Daddy Issues, Darth Vader's A+ parenting, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Han Solo needs to work on feelings, Hurt Luke, Jabba the Hutt is a horrible person, Leia Organa Needs a Hug, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Minor Leia Organa/Han Solo, Protective Han Solo, Protective Leia Organa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwppff/pseuds/Mwppff
Summary: Things take a turn for the worse after the rancor's death in Jabba's palace and the gang has to figure out how to escape with a now injured and force suppressed Luke Skywalker in tow. Oh, and somehow Darth Vader gets added into the mix.
Relationships: Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker & Han Solo, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo
Comments: 45
Kudos: 265





	1. Oh Brother

Leia Organa let out a loud sigh of relief. 

The roars of the rancor had finally quieted into a pitiful whimper with Luke safely tucked away from its grasp beyond the metal gate that had led to the creature’s demise. 

When Luke had first fallen into the pit Leia’s heart stopped due to her mounting terror, but had quickly restarted when a reassuring touch on her arm from the disguised Lando reminded her of the fact that the confrontation was all part of the mad plan the group had orchestrated. Throughout the battle between the monster and her best friend, she was unable to get a good view of the fight due to constant tugging and pulling that originated from the collar wrapped cruelly around her neck. She had been forced to simply listen to the rancor’s angry cries and pray that the tell-tale sound of crunching bone did not follow its exclamations to signal Luke’s death. 

Somewhere beyond the blinding pain that was slowly encompassing her neck due to Jabba’s enraged tugging on her chain when he realized his favorite pet had been killed, she heard him loudly demand for Solo and Chewbacca to be retrieved and brought before him. Once the Hutt’s fit had passed she was able to spot Luke, Han, and the wookie being shoved steadily through the mob of now angry people to stand before the pedestal she and Jabba were currently perched on. 

“Where’s Leia?” Han’s voice cut through her internal mantra to simply  _ breathe _ . 

“I’m here,” she answered although it came out more strangled sounding than she had anticipated. _ ‘That tends to happen when you have a slimeball actively trying to crush your windpipe’  _ she thought morbidly.

Suddenly, Jabba began to speak and Leia stiffened. 

C3PO’s soft exclamation of “oh, dear” before he translated the Hutt's words did nothing to help her frayed nerves. 

“His High Exaltedness, the great Jabba the Hutt, has decreed that you are to be terminated... immediately,” 

Leia’s blood froze to ice in her veins as the rest of the protocol droid’s translation was tuned out by the slush now rushing to her head even as her brain rationalized that she knew that this was part of the plan. Her heart did not seem to listen to rationalization, however, as it realized that the love of her life and her brother were in trouble.

Leia’s brain halted on that thought.

Over the last six months of searching and plotting, she had admitted to herself early on that Han was who she wanted to be with. Even if that meant being second best to a ship for the rest of her life. She just wished it hadn’t taken one of them being put into carbon-freeze for that particular revelation to be accepted.

With  _ Luke,  _ however...

She had never thought of him as a  _ brother  _ before. 

But now as she thought of him fitting that position, she couldn’t unthink it, and not only that, but it felt  _ right _ . Like the universe was rejoicing at the fact that that admission was finally exposed after so many years. Like a piece of a large puzzle was finally being put into place. 

‘ _ And really,’ _ Leia reflected, ‘ _ Luke is like the brother I’ve never had.’  _ He came to her rescue on the Death Star, their personalities just  _ fit _ , sometimes it seemed like he was the only one who could truly make her smile, and not to mention the countless times Luke had been her shoulder to cry on after those horrible days and nights following the destruction of Alderaan and then again after Bespin. Leia had spent so long looking for her family in Han, that she had ignored the obvious connection she had with the ex-farm boy she had met so long ago. 

These thoughts crossed her mind in a matter of seconds before C3PO’s tirade of describing the Sarlacc and her own musings were slowly cut off by a sound she had grown increasingly familiar with, but not more comfortable hearing. 

Jabba’s laugh.

During the multiple occurrences she had heard that particular sound come from the crime boss’s mouth, it had only meant pain and suffering for others. And seeing her friends- no  _ family _ \- on the receiving end of that noise made her stomach sink even more with her ever-growing worry that the plan may not go the way they had initially hoped. 

To someone who did not know the half-witted, scruffy-looking smuggler like Leia did, any other observer in the room would think that the slight shift of Han’s body in Luke’s direction would look nothing more like a change of stance due to discomfort.

But Leia was quickly learning Jabba was not as idiotic as people first pinned him as. 

It was obvious that the slug had caught on to what the inconspicuous action actually meant and was thus laughing in joy at his newfound discovery. With a growing feeling of foreboding, Leia knew that he had figured out that the gesture was a protective one as Han moved his weight in order to slightly shield the young man next to him from Jabba’s view.

Leia always loved Han for his protective streak as it showed that the pirate captain was not as tough as he painted himself out to be, but in that moment she could have hit him for it. 

It was now her turn to squirm where she sat as the laugh did not only continue far past its prime but increased in volume and intensity as his gaze was turned solely on the young Jedi Knight. 

When his laugh had finally ended much to the relief of the now tense onlookers, Jabba barked out another order to the guards and she only heard what she thought was ‘Jedi’ before Luke was being roughly shoved forward onto his knees as his back arched uncomfortably in order to fully face the Hutt who now towered over him. Han, sensing that the younger man was no longer by his side, attempted to move forward against the hands holding him in place.

“Hey look, Jabba, its getting real late and the “immediate” part of this agreement seems to be coming to an end, so we should probably get going,” Han said, as he unsuccessfully tried to take the slug’s attention away from Luke and towards himself as he delivered the frantically edged yet, unsurprisingly, witty remark. Leia tried to maneuver herself towards Luke as Han spoke, but was only given a harsh  _ yank _ on the chain for her troubles. 

As she massaged her abused throat and tried to clear away the dull roaring that was now resounding inside her head, Jabba spoke once again, scuffling came from Han’s general direction, a cape and metal brushed against her leg, and then Luke  _ screamed.  _

The scream only lasted a couple seconds, but it was a sound Leia decided she never wanted to hear again. It was enough to snap her back to attention entirely and forget about her own aches and pains. “ _ Luke! _ ” She managed to screech through her aching windpipe, and she dimly noticed Han and Chewie yelling for the young man on the ground along with her. Desperately, she attempted to locate the source of his agony and she noticed that he now sported his own collar. Unlike her own, this collar was bulky and not attached to any sort of lead, yet it was a far cry from her dainty gold necklace as this one seemed to be meant to cause even more discomfort and embarrassment if that was possible. 

Her famous temper was growing and begging to be released on the poor soul who dared to cause her friend pain and locked onto the bounty hunter now supporting half of the Jedi’s weight in order to stop him from collapsing fully to the ground. It was the same man who had taken Han, ‘ _ Boba Fett,’ _ she recalled and that information only served to make her angrier. 

Her rage, as strong as it was, was nothing compared to Han’s pure  _ fury _ . 

Leia knew that if Darth Vader himself had been present, some of the words Han was throwing at Jabba and Fett would leave even  _ him  _ blushing underneath his ominous helmet. A flash of Lando’s face beneath a guard’s helmet and a firm yet gentle hand on Han’s arm reassured her that he would stop the hot-heated smuggler turned general from doing anything stupid.

Ignoring Han’s impressive display of his vocabulary that somehow could be heard over Chewie’s howls for the moment, Leia’s eyes frantically sought out Luke’s face in order to gage whether or not he was still suffering. The pinched skin around his eyes told her he was but not as greatly as before. His hand twitched in the general direction of the blaster that remained securely on Fett’s hip and Leia’s eyes blew wide at the true implications of the piece of metal around his neck. 

Luke had discussed it with her before, sometime in that long period between now and Bespin, about how he got his powers and how they weren’t actually powers at all... 

_ “It’s called the force,” he said excitedly, as he brushed away some hair that had fallen in front of his eyes in his eagerness as it still had not been chopped off into his current, cropped style. “It's an energy that connects all living things, and a Jedi is gifted with a certain sensitivity to this energy which allows them to use this connection to aid the Jedi’s abilities. It’s like a six-sense, so to speak, that is always there to guide your actions, like a light in a dark passage,” he finished with a small wistful smile on his face as if remembering a dear friend. _

_ “Do you know why you were gifted with it?” she asked out of curiosity unaware of the effect the words would have on him. The smile quickly formed into a frown and a gleam appeared in his eyes (the gleam Leia noticed appeared whenever he woke up from a nightmare about Bespin) as he answered with much less enthusiasm than before, “I got it from my father.” And that was the end of her lesson. _

With mounting horror Leia realized that the collar was constructed to quickly snip a connection to the force in an incredibly painful way, especially for someone like Luke, as he told her later that he had something called a higher midi-chlorian count. Remembering how fondly the blonde had spoken of that connection and the reassurance it gave the then fledgling Jedi, Leia’s heart ached all the more for him as she comprehended how lost he must be feeling right now. 

It showed on his face as he looked owlishly around the room as if he had just awakened from a long sleep and had woken up in an unfamiliar place.

“Han?” he slurred as he remembered himself a bit, and Leia found it hard to understand that this was the same Luke that had bravely spoken to Jabba minutes before and not the young boy that was jumping into his X-wing to go blow up the Death Star.

Instantly, Han stopped his string of curses and focused on his best friend. 

“Yeah, I’m here kid. Don’t worry” he answered with a slight tremor that came into his voice which he quickly schooled into gruffness by the end of his reassurance. Leia didn’t know if he was reassuring Luke or himself. She quickly connected the dots and observed that it would not be hard to recognize that Han thinks of Luke as his brother too. 

Now Leia could only hold her breath and pray nothing too horrible would befall one of the most cherished members of their new-found family. 

And they really had to make a new plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This chapter is mostly just an intro before getting into the real action *grins evilly*. Feel free to give a kudo and comment any feedback you have. Thanks for reading!  
> -Mwppff<3


	2. When You Have A Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At this point, Han is starting to think he would be better off back in carbonite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey readers! I know I said I was going to try to get into the action in this chapter, but I couldn't resist recapping the events from Han's POV. I promise I'll actually get into some more of the angst next chapter though. Pinkie-swear! Enjoy!

Han Solo was having a very,  _ very _ bad day. 

Of course, considering he had only just been mercifully released from his not so pleasant stay in carbonite by Leia, he apparently had been having a very bad  _ six months. _

When he had first come back to semi-awareness, he had been unsettled to realize that he didn’t know where he was, why he felt so ill, and who his mysterious rescuer was. When an unfamiliar voice had morphed into that of the Princess of Alderaan, Han knew that he was in safe hands. At least, he was, until his old friend (and enemy) decided to crash their bittersweet reunion. 

Next thing he knew, he was being wrapped up in the furry arms of his first mate, Chewbacca, and he was learning that Luke had put together some sort of elaborate plot to retrieve him from this hellhole known as Jabba’s palace. 

As time passed excruciatingly slow, in the damp, smelly cell, Han couldn’t help but have his doubts about the kid’s ability to pull off something of this scale. According to Chewie, he had officially done what he had set out to do since Han had first met him and finally became a Jedi Knight. 

That especially was a hard, bantha-sized pill for Han to swallow. 

How had the naïve, slightly reckless, and impatient kid the smuggler had rescued from Hoth, for Han what seemed like, only weeks ago, become a wise, collected, and strategic adult in only just a few months? The maturing that the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, Rebellion pilot had undergone must have been astronomical, and Han had no clue what might have changed Luke’s personality so dramatically. 

The roars of the rancor echoed throughout the small room from down the hallway, and Han wondered who the unfortunate victim Jabba had declared was to be the night’s entertainment. He did not have to wonder for long, however, for as soon as the creature had quieted, the guards had returned to collect both himself and Chewie (despite the wookie’s loud protests) and dragged them none-too-gently through the hallways until he thought he heard the voice of the young man who Han’s thoughts had been so consumed by over the past hours. 

“Han!” And the voice sang with the same childlike quality Han had remembered, except… it sounded almost weary to Han, like a burden had been placed on the kid’s shoulders, and the conman was still clueless as to what that package was. He cursed his poor eyesight so he couldn’t get a proper look at the kid. All he saw was a dark blur which in itself spoke volumes, as he was no longer wearing his signature light clothing he had worn ever since Han had picked him up off of the dust-ball he used to call home.

“Luke!”

“Are you alright?” Luke spoke again and it sounded closer this time. Of course, the kid would be worried about himself even though, if Han had to guess, he was the unfortunate victim of the monster Han had wondered about earlier due to the angry murmuring filling the room and voices whispering “he killed the rancor”. Han didn’t know where the ex-farm boy got his luck to end up in so many death traps.

“Fine,” he replied, and he couldn’t help but slip into their usual banter Han had missed so much despite their current situation ,“Together again, huh?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” the blonde boy shot back easily although he sounded slightly winded, and Han could imagine a devilish grin on his face as he was ruthlessly prodded by the Gamorreans. 

“How are we doing?”

“Same as always.”

“That bad, huh?” Han played it off as it being a light remark, but he knew Luke could tell he was serious and was genuinely wondering what degree of awful they had gotten themselves into now. The guards stopped their insistent pulling on his arms as they finally reached their destination, and he could feel the kid’s elbow brush his own as they were herded together. 

“Where’s Leia?” 

“I’m here,” the breathless reply confirmed for Han that they were all together, but maybe not in one piece. Worry for her filled him, but he knew that the feisty princess could take care of herself for the time being. 

All chatter instantly quieted as Jabba’s unmistakable voice began to speak, and from what Han could make out from the short declaration, it wasn’t saying anything good. A blob of gold signaled that somehow even the droids had been roped into this mess. 

“Good. I hate long waits,” Han said with more confidence than he felt as the goldenrod announced that Luke, Chewbacca, and himself were to be terminated immediately. He couldn’t help himself even if he tried as he unconsciously shifted his weight in the general direction of the Luke shaped blur. It's not that he didn’t think the kid was capable of defending himself but all past evidence had proven otherwise, and he couldn’t help but feel like the newly knighted Jedi still needed some sort of protection. 

This proved to be a big mistake. 

The reptilian eyes of the Hutt that had been sweeping back and forth between the prisoners, now fully settled on Luke as Han felt his unnerving stare leave him completely in a flash, and Jabba’s cruel, deep laughter filled the room. 

And it was aimed at Luke. 

Han tried to ignore the bubbling of his growing anxiety and try to figure out how to make himself target practice instead.

All too soon for Han’s scheming mind, the noise cut off, and Luke was suddenly being wretched away from where he had stood safe at Han’s side. A grunt and the sound of bone against concrete signaled that the younger man had been pushed roughly onto the ground. 

His panic boiled over as he struggled to reach where the black blur had moved to, and when that failed, Han tried to talk his way out of it, unsurprisingly. 

“Hey look, Jabba, it’s getting real late and the “immediate” part of this agreement seems to be coming to an end, so we should probably get going,” Han said with his usual charm thrown in to disguise the tinge of desperation in his voice. To his dismay, the slug made no acknowledgement he had heard Han and instead signaled to someone out of Han’s limited line of, well, “sight”. 

Multiple things happened at once: Leia made a strange choking noise, a armor covered figure moved from the left side of Han’s vision towards Luke (a angry roar from Chewie let him know exactly who the figure was), and Han unsuccessfully fought against the multiple arms that held him in place.

A  _ scream. _

And then any composure Han was trying to hang onto to ease their way through a friendly confrontation evaporated as he shouted Luke’s name.

Long forgotten curses and promises of death flew out of his mouth at rapid speed as he shouted mindlessly at Jabba and the bounty hunter who was no doubt the cause of Luke’s apparent agony. Chewie’s accompanying roars did nothing to drown out the magnitude of his fury, and what was left of his vision was tinged red. His only regret as he bucked and kicked wildly against the hands now struggling to hold him still was that his vision was still clouded so he couldn’t imagine in perfect detail his hands squeezing and then snapping Fett’s neck. A warm and distinctly not pig-like hand rested warningly on his shoulder and Han was reminded that there was a lot more at stake than just Luke’s safety and his struggling ceased but not the stream of words still finding a way out of his mouth. That act of defiance only stopped when a soft and confusion filled voice reached Han’s ears. 

“Han?” Luke asked the surrounding crowd weakly, and Han could have sworn his heart split in two. 

“Yeah, I’m here kid. Don’t worry,” he said quickly in response, but not harshly, and he was ashamed to admit his voice may have cracked. He blamed it on the previous screaming and not the fact that he was overcome with the urge to cry. His eyes were bad enough at the moment without all the sand that had been stirred up making them water, thank you very much. 

“What did you do?” Han was the first to break the silence that had blanketed the room for the last couple minutes, though it was occasionally broken by jeering and whooping due to the display of the suffering of a proclaimed Jedi Knight. He was sure the source of Luke’s pain was obvious to everyone in the chamber but him, and he once again cursed his poor eyesight. 

“ _ Something to keep the Jedi from performing any of their usual tricks, _ ” Jabba answered and Han had an aching suspicion that he knew what he was talking about... 

_ Thirteen-year-old Han Solo, skidded around the corner of the Corellian alleyway and flattened himself against the building’s wall, heart thumping wildly. He let out the breath he had been holding as the two stormtroopers who had previously been hot on his tail continued past his hiding spot and turned right at another warehouse ahead.  _

_ The Empire had been born out of the ashes of the destroyed Republic only days earlier and had sent troops to start their takeover of Corellia within hours after its formation. Since then, the underground smuggling businesses spread throughout the planet have needed to stay as incognito as possible in its dealing in case the Empire found out about their more… illegal dealings.  _

_ Han had been doing his normal run of the street as he skillfully pickpocketed unsuspecting individuals when a nearby patrol had, unfortunately, spotted him. This led to his mad dash through the backways of the spaceport while avoiding badly aimed blaster fire as he tried to outrun his pursuers.  _

_ Confident that the troopers had definitely lost him and would not be coming back this way, Han relaxed from his stiff position against the brick wall, and double checked that he had gotten away with all of his earnings. If not, Lady Proxima would skin him for sure.  _

_ Focused as he was on making sure all of his haul was accounted for, he was thoroughly startled by the hand that fell on his shoulder. Instantaneously, he whirled around, stolen blaster in hand, and aimed it at his unknown companion. What he saw, though, made him pause.  _

_ The woman was dressed like no one he had seen on Corellia or no one he had seen  _ ever  _ for that matter. She wore a light colored, rough looking cotton shirt with matching pants along with a baggy-looking hooded outer garment while something in her eyes spoke of wisdom and ancient knowledge even though she couldn’t have been more than 50 due to her youthful smile. Assured that it was not one of his “buddies” looking to collect their owed money, Han lowered the blaster but still did not flick on the safety.  _

_ “Who are you?” Han asked with suspicion clear in his voice. The strange woman’s smile tightened but did not fall from her face.  _

_ “You are my friend who will help me get passage off of this planet,” she said and her voice almost compelled Han to agree.  _

Almost.

_ “Lady,” Han said as all his manners had been forgotten long ago, “I don’t know who you are, but no one tells me what to do, and why in the nine-kriffing hells would I help you?” he asked with disbelief that this woman that he had just met could be so bold. _

_ Something akin to shock lighted up in the woman’s eyes for a moment before it quickly went away and was replaced with a serene calmness, and her smile once again relaxed. _

_ “I’m on the run from the Empire and arrived at this planet only days ago hoping to find refuge from any Imperial activity, but I was obviously wrong to pick a planet this close to the core worlds,” She finished with an uneasy glance around the area.  _

_ Han didn’t know whether to be more shocked that the woman actually told the truth or at the fact that he could now tell she had a distinct Coruscant accent.  _

_ And then it clicked.  _

_ “You’re a Jedi!!” Han shrieked when he recognized her dress from the holos, but regretted it moments later when his earlier chasers came sprinting around the corner, blasters drawn.  _

_ “Blast her!” One of them shouted and the woman froze in panic while seemingly trapped in some sort of flashback. A blaster bolt sailed over Han’s head to land solidly in their target's arm and the Jedi went down with a muffled yell. That yell turned into a pain-filled scream moments later when the stormtroopers ran to her fallen position and put what looked like a large cuff around their prey’s neck.  _

_ Han took his chance while they were distracted and ran back the way he came before he entered the alley during the chase, but not before he heard the stormtrooper’s parting words.  _

_ “There, that should subdue the Jedi scum before Vader gets the chance to finish her off.” _

_ And their barbaric laughter and jeers followed Han all the way home.  _

Shaking his head to get rid of the intruding memories from his should-be-forgotten childhood, Han squinted his throbbing eyes to try to get a clearer look at the young Jedi on the ground. Fett forced Luke to rest back on his knees and the movement caused the light to reflect just enough off of something metal on the kid’s neck and his horrible suspicion was confirmed. The young man was wearing a collar. 

Something animalistic snarled in the back of Han’s head, though it could have just been the wookie next to him who was now making quite a ruckus due to the treatment of his friend, but he stopped himself from flying off the handle again for Luke’s sake. He dimly noticed that the hand on his shoulder squeezed tightly once again in warning as if sensing the man’s rising temper. 

Then Luke was being hauled bodily to his feet by the unforgiving grip the bounty hunter had on his hair, and Han disconcertedly remembered that the notorious hitman had some sort of vendetta against Jedi (something to do with daddy issues), and Han’s fear for his friend’s already doubtful welfare increased. 

A hiss escaped from Luke as his blonde locks were yanked upwards, and there was a responding dark chuckle from Fett’s vocoder which did nothing to ease his rising apprehension at the situation. 

‘ _ Somehow,’  _ Han thought as he sighed internally, now confident the universe actually hated him, ‘ _ This day just turned from very bad, to straight up awful.’  _

So much for the kid’s master plan.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Han can't talk his way out of this one! Everybody pray for Luke as I will not be kind to him. Any who, I will be pretty sporadic with updating, but the longest I will go without doing so is probably a week tops. If you liked this chapter/story be sure to give a kudo and comment any feedback you may have! Thanks for reading!  
> -Mwppff <3


	3. Self-Preservation Is Not A Skywalker Trait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke has proven that he is not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! This update came a lot sooner than even I anticipated so I hope you enjoy!

Luke should have expected that the “Skywalker luck” would help as much as it usually did. 

Meaning not at all. 

‘ _In fact,’_ Luke mused, ‘ _I think we just attract trouble,’_

And he was definitely in _big_ trouble. 

After killing the rancor, Luke had been left feeling breathless from adrenaline yet giddy from the thrill of victory for accomplishing what other victims of the monster had been unable to do before. 

Escape. 

Granted, the rancor’s other meals were not fully trained Jedi. 

‘ _Well, almost fully trained,’_ he mentally amended his statement, heart-throbbing suddenly when he thought of Master Yoda. 

He had left Dagobah without so much as a goodbye when he rushed to Cloud City in order to save Leia and Han from the fate that they had suffered in his visions. Six months later, and he was still trying to rescue one part of the duo that had managed to slip through Luke’s fingers right into Jabba the Hutt's waiting hands. 

But at this point in the execution of his painstakingly thought-out plan to retrieve Han from the slug’s palace, Luke was not expecting the singled out attention the Hutt seemed to be giving him after all of them were forced to congregate in the audience chamber. 

  
After gently prodding his friend’s mind with the force to check on his less than favorable physical state due to his release from his long bout of hibernation, he had simply resigned himself to what, he figured, would come next due to the intense and utter rage he was sensing from Jabba. Death by the Sarlacc. Jabba’s favorite and most drawn out way to kill his most despised enemies a.k.a. ‘Han Solo, Chewbacca’, and, now, ‘Luke Skywalker’.

And then of course, Han had to be Han. Luke shouldn't have been as surprised as he was at the turn of events.

He too had seen the almost unnoticeable movement that had originated during the Rebellion general’s expected cheeky response to their death sentence, but as he was so used to the overprotective nature from the older man, Luke had thought nothing of it. That is, until Jabba started doubling over from the power of his laughter. 

_That_ Luke thought something of.

And Luke’s stomach sank as all remaining traces of the Hutt’s decelerating anger made way for pure, unrestrained glee as the reptilian eyes locked directly onto the Jedi. He could feel Han’s unease, Leia’s slowly building dread, and Lando’s anxiety from their different positions in the room, but he could not do anything to assuage their worries as the ex-farm boy was not feeling all that level-headed himself. 

Uncle Owen had always warned Luke about the Hutts when he was a child in order to dissuade him from running off during their rare visits to the large spaceports, which the energetic blonde would have done otherwise in order to get a closer look at the different ship models. Aunt Beru had cemented his trepidation of the clan by telling him horror stories about unsuspecting children being sold into slavery or unlucky dealers who were unable to repay their debts to the unforgiving crime bosses. Ever since then, Luke had a high unease aimed around the Hutts activities as any respectable Tatooine native would due to the fear for their lives and their safety.

The now grown-up man was regretting not listening to his aunt and uncle's advice as his kneecaps roughly slammed into the ground directly in front of his childhood boogeyman. 

He heard Han yell something about it getting late and they should really get a move on, and the younger boy held uncomfortably on the ground couldn’t help but be touched by the franticness that he could both hear and feel aimed at himself from the smuggler turned general. 

And judging by the sadistic intent that has now been added into the mix of the slug’s feelings, it was dawning on Luke that the concern practically radiating from the ex-con man might be well founded. Luke’s right hand began to ache in remembered pain from his last encounter with a powerful, feared individual... 

Luke quickly banished any thoughts of Bespin from his mind. He couldn’t afford to lose his head when the enemy was literally looming over him. 

‘ _In fact,_ ’ Luke thought as he banished the unpleasant image of the shadows in the corner of the room morphing into Vader, ‘ _I should probably work at making sure this situation doesn’t accelerate any more than it has,_ ’ He really did not like the dark anticipation rolling off of nearly every individual in the room. 

His small lapse of focus due to his flashback from his confrontation with his father would cost him as another large, decidedly not Gamorrean hand roughly latched onto his arm and yanked back his head by grasping a clump of his recently cropped hair and none-too-gently clasped something heavy around his now exposed neck. 

All thoughts of negotiation left Luke as his very essence seemed to _explode_ into pure _pain._

And somewhere on the other side of the galaxy, Darth Vader froze in his tracks. 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\O/////////////////////

As Luke would describe to Leia later, it was the equivalent of his soul being ripped physically from his body while every inch of his skin was light aflame simultaneously by some unseen source of heat that must have come from the depths of hell itself. The flash of agony only lasted seconds, but even then, Luke couldn’t hold back his tortured scream.

Colors flashed in front of Luke’s eyes as angry yelling and the sound of a struggle nearby registered in his foggy mind. Instinctively Luke reached out a hand in order to call the blaster in his direct line of sight to himself to help whoever was obviously in distress, but retracted it quickly in confusion when he realized he couldn’t feel the force. Cold metal secured uncomfortably tight around his throat and wrists made him all the more perplexed. 

Where was he? Why was he cuffed? Was there an attack on the Rebel base? Was he captured and being brought to Vader? 

Luke shivered. 

All at once it came rushing back to him as his last occurrence of dealing with that particular trigger came to the forefront of his mind. 

Rancor. Jabba’s Palace. Leia, Lando, Chewie… Han…

Had they successfully retrieved their friend? He couldn’t remember. Was he still in carbonite? Luke blearily decided to voice his concerns.

“Han?” He said loudly or tried to say loudly as his tongue refused to cooperate correctly. 

“Yeah, I’m here kid. Don’t worry.” The smuggler’s reply came from somewhere behind Luke and the last bit of information just out of reach of his fuzzy memory returned. 

An unpleasant inhale of sand and a bruising grip still on his arm and hair told him he was still in the same predicament. 

A couple minutes passed where Luke focused on calming his racing heart, and then Han spoke.

“What did you do?”

‘ _Something to keep the Jedi from performing any of his usual tricks,"_ the Hutt who was still overshadowing him responded with delight clear in his tone, but to Luke’s alarm, he was unable to sense if that was what the slug was actually feeling. In fact, he couldn’t sense anybody in the chamber or beyond, and the comforting, soothing presence of the force was completely gone leaving him only with a hollow emptiness that seemed to consume his entire being. 

Luke’s heart rate which had finally dialed back down to its normal pace skyrocketed once again as he began to panic over the implications of what that meant. 

As far as Luke was aware, there was only one thing that could block a Jedi’s connection to the force and that was ysalamiri, tiny lizards which were known to create a force-neutral bubble, which he had unfortunately come across while scouting possible bases for the rebellion. There was no greater reaction than a brief distressing lapse in his bond to the force, however, and nothing quite so painful. 

Luke also distantly recalled Ben telling him a tale about how Jedi were rounded up during the forging of the Empire and some other form of suppression was used after Luke had questioned how it was possible that almost every Jedi had been exterminated…

_“At the very beginning of the Empire,” Ben said while pensively stroking his beard in thought as the wind blowing through the speeder whipped his hair around wildly, “Most of the members of the Jedi Order were killed in the Jedi Purges,” The aged warrior let out a large sigh. "Those who managed to escape were hunted down by troops and were later brought to and executed by Vader.”_

_Luke furrowed his eyebrows in confusion but made sure to keep his eyes directed ahead. “But how did basically trained troops manage to take down Jedi Knights?”_

_“The Jedi were either overwhelmed with large numbers, or on a more regular basis, they were cut off from the force in order to limit their abilities.”_

_“Cut off from the force!?” Luke shouted before he could stop himself. He corrected his volume with a slight blush on his cheeks and continued on with a quieter, “But how? How did they manage to control something that is intangible to others?”_

_“Various devices were used to control individuals with a strong connection to the force, they were referred to as force suppressors. Thankfully, they are no longer being produced and those that were still salvageable were all destroyed as they were seen as barbaric and inhumane do to the intent to cause harm and weaken the wearer,” And then Ben got that haunted, far-away look in his eye and Luke decided to drop the subject and focus solely on driving._

His conversation with Ben from what seemed like a lifetime ago while driving to the Mos Eisley spaceport explained that there was another form of force suppression that had once existed, but all of them were destroyed… right? Or apparently not.

If so, how had Boba Fett, the man he had only just recognized was responsible for putting on his new accessory, gotten his hands on something that was supposed to be a rare artifact? Luke didn’t need the force to know that there was something more sinister going on behind the curtains. But what? And who would hate Luke enough to dig up something that was not only illegal but most likely almost impossible to find? His mind immediately drifted to his father, but he knew subconsciously that that suspicion couldn’t be right, because if his father wanted him that desperately, he could simply come collect him himself. There must be a third party involved that only Fett knew about. 

And judging by the merciless way the bounty hunter had just pulled him bodily off the floor by his hair, he was assuming he would be spending enough time with the man over the next few hours in order to figure it out. 

“Back with us Jedi?” Fett practically hissed through his vocoder as he towered over the blonde once Luke was standing, and the shorter boy desperately tried not to think about how it’s mechanical quality reminded him of Vader’s own speech aid. 

But if Luke wanted answers, he knew that he needed to keep the other man talking and preferably irritated so he would be more likely to let something slip. No matter the consequences. 

And Luke _knew_ there would be consequences. 

Han and Leia were going to kill him.

Attempting to put as much sarcasm in his voice as possible, the X-wing pilot internally braced himself for the man’s retaliation as he spoke through his slightly obstructed throat, 

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, “ I just decided to take a quick stroll to Naboo,” And added an eye roll in for good measure.

A moment of silence while the hitman paused in disbelief, an “I can’t bare to watch” from C3P0-

A knee to the gut was the answering sign of displeasure of his bold response and he found his poor patellas once again making painful contact with the stone floor. Metal to the stomach _hurt._

He could practically feel Obi-Wan’s disapproving stare from the afterlife for his atrocious self-preservation skills.

“I would drop the cheek if you know what’s good for you,” the bounty hunter said in a clear warning and Luke smugly managed to notice the annoyed edge to the man's words through the burning originating from his abdomen. 

“Why? Are you going to go run to daddy?” Luke asked wide-eyed with a lisp clear in his voice and a full-lipped pout. 

Oops. 

That seemed to cross some kind of unspoken line with Fett as the next thing he knew agony exploded in no single, nameable place as Fett hit and kicked every exposed part of Luke he could reach, and he did not pull his punches despite the literal metal plating the man wore. 

Something coarse brushed against Luke’s temple and he noted that he had somehow ended up on the floor as the armor-covered man continued to rain down blows. The collar, being the only thing stopping his head from completely resting on the ground, was also digging into and chaffing the left side of his neck as his body pulsed violently with the blows that were now aimed at his protected abdomen. A steel-toed boot to his spine solved that problem for the bounty hunter and his stomach was left vulnerable. 

A _crack_ and a flare of concentrated pain let Luke know that one of his ribs must have cracked.

The ringing in Luke’s ears returned after a solid kick aimed itself at Luke’s face. Sadly, it could not drown out the cheers and harsh, foreign words thrown his way by the room’s obviously satisfied occupants. 

Or the howls of a fully-grown wookie, the begging of an ex-smuggler, or the sobbing of a princess. 

One final kick aimed at the offending collar around his neck left him gasping as it was pushed into his trachea and instinctively he coughed. Red splattered the sand in front of him. 

‘ _Oh that’s not good,’_ Luke thought dumbly as his brain struggled to process anything but an alarming numbness and constant throbbing and what he was seeing through his now puffy-eyed vision. 

Perfectly polished leather boots and not the stubby toes in sandals he had been expecting appeared in front of his face and he knew Lando had just stopped his would-be-killer from murdering him in his apparent uncontrollable rage. 

‘ _Note to self_ ,’ He winced when attempting to clear the blood flowing in rivulets into his eyes, he jostled his ribs, ‘ _Don’t mention his father.’_

Luke’s ears regained some of their integrity and he was able to make out the continued rambunctious support aimed at the bounty hunter from the surrounding audience as they soaked up his pain. He vaguely heard Leia sniffling somewhere from his right and he immediately felt guilty for causing her even more distress, but her best friend tried to shake it off. Luke was determined to get answers even if he died trying. 

‘ _That’s looking like the latter,’_ his brain whispered. 

Luke told his brain in a very un-Jedi-like fashion to shut the hell up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you go! Luke is not known for his good decision making skills and this obviously shows that. I didn't want to get too graphic as I know some people are sensitive about that sort of thing, but I still think your prayers were warranted. Give a kudos and comment anything on your mind after finishing this chapter! Much appreciated!  
> -Mwppff<3


	4. Meetings and Mass Murders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader's day just went from bad to worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! This chapter is done from Vader's POV as I wanted to include him the story as well. I hope you enjoy!

Darth Vader was bored out of his mind. 

He, for once, was thankful for the existence of his infernal suit and helmet as it disguised his listless expression and ensured that he was incapable of slouching in his seat as he would have been otherwise, without the heavy armor limiting him from performing such an action. 

Even though the Sith Lord no longer associated himself with the weak fool who used to be Anakin Skywalker, it didn’t mean that the man now known as Darth Vader liked tactical meetings any more than his previous self. As he had been his entire life, Vader was a man of action, and listening to spineless, unqualified individuals who had never seen a day of battle in their life spout political nonsense and attempt to pinpoint military targets was not his idea of productivity. Having to sit through the conferences was just another curse of being the Emperor’s right-hand.

As always, their disagreement originated from a “discussion” about the Rebellion. Usually Vader was fiercely interested in any movement or devising performed by the group in question, but the scoffable-sized alliance was not worthy of his concern at the moment due to a certain member no longer being present among its ranks. 

His son.

Even though it had been almost four years since Vader had learned that his child had survived, the ramifications that came with such a discovery were still surreal to the Sith. A part of himself lived in another living, breathing, human being, one who experienced emotions, felt pain, and made their own decisions. 

‘ _ Misguided as they may be, _ ’ thought Vader as he reflected on his son’s chosen career path. No matter, that would soon be remedied. 

Another smaller, neglected part of his subconsciousness whispered to him that a part of  _ her  _ lived inside him too… and the dark-hearted man shoved that unwelcome notion back where it belonged. Despite himself, what little information he gathered during his confrontation with the boy sprang to the forefront of his mind and he found himself comparing Luke to both of his long-dead parents. 

Blonde hair, his. 

Petite figure, hers. 

Overconfidence, his. 

A flash of an upturned smile, hers.

Quickly as the comparisons came, Vader angrily shut all intruding memories of his past life away and focused on the young man in question during the current day. Not that he had much to go off of in that aspect.

Vader had received a report from an officer monitoring rebel activity about three months ago stating that they had compiled intel suggesting that both Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa had branched away from the rest of the Rebellion. He knew that they were still loyal to the cause and eventually would be returning to help the hopeless organization once they completed what other side-quest they had gone off on as they still believed in the doomed endeavor.

Usually, there was just enough information coming in from investigating personnel to satisfy Vader as he knew of the rebels’ general whereabouts and therefore his son’s location in turn, but now, his offspring had run off on his own and was, hence, untraceable. His only indication that his child did not simply vanish was the constant softly glowing light of his force presence just out of Vader’s reach along with their strained bond the boy had still yet to fully recognize. This did not sit well with him.

It was not that the dark lord of the Sith was concerned about his child, per say, or overprotective by any means. Although, Vader was doing a poor job of even convincing himself that was the truth.

He just knew that the boy somehow found his way into trouble-filled situations, and he did not want his heir damaged before he could take his proper place at his father’s side. 

‘ _ Any more damaged, _ ’ Vader amended with what was most definitely not a stirring of guilt as he remembered his more regrettable piece of swordwork on Bespin. He covered up the foreign feeling with irritation as he assured himself that it was necessary as the barely trained Jedi refused to come quietly so he was faced with no other option than to disarm Skywalker to stop the child’s foolishness. 

“...concludes our meeting for today, gentlemen,” said the annoyed voice of Admiral Piett as the last report was finally finished. At least he wasn’t the only one who hated these consultations. There was a very noticeable release of tension as the members quickly exited the boardroom, and Vader realized that this was the first military meeting in almost a year where he had not killed someone for their baffling degree of incompetence as his mind was distracted with thoughts of Luke. His son really was making him soft. 

Ignoring the pain that raced up what was left of his legs when he stood up from his unmoving position at the large table, Vader purposefully made his way towards the doorway, eager to leave the tedious meeting behind him.

“My Lord,” A brave technician addressed him, panting slightly as he struggled to keep with the Sith’s long strides as they arrived at the deck of the  _ Executor _ , “A report was just commed in that the-”

_ Snip.  _ The bond Vader had with his son was cut.

The technician’s windpipe snapped. 

‘ _ No, no, no, _ ’ Vader chanted internally in utter disbelief. He felt rooted to the spot in pure shock.

Where the calming light had once been there was nothing as he felt his son’s very essence disappear from the force. Their bond too was cruelly silenced as the boy became completely unresponsive. It could only mean one thing for Luke to disappear so suddenly in both manners. 

He was dead. 

Precious seconds of nothingness dragged on as Vader’s mind floated between bewilderment and confusion and then the agonizing grief came rushing in.

No member of personnel in the area was spared as his light emotions battled with the dark and morphed in complete rage as he crushed tracheas of pleading officers and cut down retreating troopers mercilessly with his lightsaber. His fury was only satiated when the life of every being on the deck, who dared to live beyond his son, was extinguished. 

_ It seems, in your anger, you killed her _ .

Had he led his son down the path which ultimately led to his demise? That night on Cloud City only pushed the two farther apart rather than closer together than Vader had hoped. His son had fled from in horror right into the events that had ended his life. The durasteel in his prosthetic fists creaked.

_ Ani,... I’m pregnant.  _

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Was the force so cruel as to keep both oblivious of the other’s existence for twenty years and then after one horrific confrontation it would just simply give no chance for reconciliation? With a sinking heart Vader bitterly realized that it could be so cruel. 

‘ _ But not without reason,’ _ Vader confusedly thought as he strongly pushed back against the waves of sorrow threatening to lighten his black soul.

Still something did not add up. 

Vader was not one to fall into denial as there was no room for that in his line of work. No, this was something different. Suspicion. 

There was no whisper of _‘Danger_ ’ to alert the Sith that his son was in trouble, and his Luke’s lifeforce did not fade gradually into nothingness, the snuff of his light was swift and final in all aspects. The only explanation that Vader could think to justify those ends was that his son was sniped unsuspectingly. In any event, however, Luke would have been able to sense the danger and act accordingly before the fatal shot could have been taken.

Still, The brutal imagery of his son lying dead in a random street after being shot cleanly in the head from behind like common hunting game made something dark and predatory stir inside of Vader that he did not know existed. 

The only being capable of performing such a barbaric act would be a bounty hunter, and the last time Vader checked (two days ago) Luke only had ‘alive only’ bounties and had no orders instructed to kill the young Jedi on sight. Vader’s own bounty was set with very strict directions to bring in the youth unharmed, and he was confident they would comply. No one wanted to anger the notorious Sith lord. 

So why would his son be killed? Some personal vendetta? 

‘ _ No, that’s not it, _ ’ Vader thought sharply as he started to become increasingly frustrated. His son had plenty of enemies, he was sure, it was a natural Skywalker tendency, but none with the means or motivation to hire someone else to do their dirty work for them. 

Had the rebellion found out about his parentage and decided to get rid of who they thought was a traitor? 

Vader paused on that thought with uncertainty but quickly marked it as invalid. He was convinced that his son had not divulged that particular bit of information to anyone, not even Organa, due to the shame and denial Skywalker still felt himself. That thought made Vader uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t let himself dwell on why.

So what happened to his son?... Was he not actually dead?

Despite the Sith’s best attempts he couldn’t squash the hope that was unwillingly starting to build inside of him. All evidence to the contrary, Darth Vader was determined to discover if his son was really alive. 

“My Lord…” A hesitant voice to his left spoke to him and the only thing that stopped Vader from killing that man for interrupting his musings was the fact that he was one of the only competent members of staff he had. 

“Yes, Admiral Piett,” Vader answered, venom in his tone, as he struggled to reign in his still blazing temper.

“The report that the technician brought to you, sir, it was a lead on the whereabouts of the Millennium Falcon,” the officer answered calmly hoping that some good news would help dispel the rest of the cyborg’s obvious rage. It worked.

“What system, Captain?” The hope grudgingly rose again. 

“Tatooine.”

The dark armored man froze.  _ ‘Tatooine,’  _ Vader thought moodily, ‘ _ Why does it always come back to Tatooine?’ _

Looks like Vader was going back to the planet he swore to leave behind forever. Again. He could see Kenobi laughing at him now.

‘ _ Kriff, the force,’  _ he brooded regardless of the consequences. It looked like it was going to be an even longer day.

“Set course for Tatooine,” he barked at the newly promoted crew, looking pale as they glanced around at their fallen predecessors. Not to be told twice, the technicians scrambled to do what they were told as Vader looked on smugly. 

At least some things never change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you have it! This chapter took longer for me to write and is slightly shorter as I really wanted to capture the grumpiness the Vader has and also the fluffy parts he attempts to hide. Thanks once again for reading and let me know if you liked it!  
> -Mwppff<3


	5. Cell Shananigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han comes to some revelations of what Luke has gone through during his absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Yay! I'm finally updating! This week has kinda been crazy so I'm so happy I got this done. You all seemed to like Han's POV so I thought I would do that again for this chapter. Enjoy!

Han stumbled as he was roughly pushed back inside of his dingy cell. 

Shaking slightly he lowered himself carefully to the ground, though he wasn’t entirely sure the rising nausea was due to his hibernation sickness or just an overwhelming feeling of shock over the events that had just gone down. One thought prevailed in Han’s mind, echoing his disbelief at his young friend’s actions.

What was  _ wrong  _ with Luke. 

The smuggler knew the kid could keep a cool head and even be somewhat of a genius when it came to being put under pressure, but what the kid pulled on Boba Fett was just stupidity at the young man’s finest. 

Han couldn’t help but sympathize a little bit with Fett at first when Luke pulled his first remark out of a bantha and let it ring through the chamber for all to hear. The Rebellion general kinda wanted to throw in a hit of his own for the Jedi’s utter disregard for his own safety. 

And then Luke had to go and mention the bounty hunter’s worshiped father. Han cringed in remembrance. 

Almost immediately after the kid’s statement he internally winced and waited for the reaction that the hot-tempered hitman was sure to deliver to the laserbrain who dared to utter a word about dear old dad. He wasn’t disappointed.

  
Instantly, chaos erupted inside of the chamber. Fett screamed obscenities, jeers and cheering originated from the blood-thirsty audience, and Han’s own hollering was mixed into the fray as all of the noise was tied together by the sound of something hard being slammed over and over again into flesh as Luke was pummeled relentlessly by the pissed off Kaminoian. 

When someone mercifully stopped Fett from finishing the job and simply killing the young man where the black, blurry figure laid lifelessly on the floor Han was thankful, but for three heart-stopping seconds he had already feared the kid was dead, and then he coughed and Han unclenched his tightly bound hands as he realized that the kid wasn’t going to give up that easily. 

Han didn’t know if that thought made him feel relieved or just brought him more dread. 

Jabba had a long history of being inhumane and cruel to all of his prisoners, especially those who were, in his mind, high profile or valuable. Han himself had fallen into that unfortunate category and had ended up as a tasteful wall decoration for the last six months. Now Luke waltzes effortlessly into the Hutt’s fortified palace, claims to be a mythicized Jedi Knight, kills Jabba’s favorite death machine, and somehow stays level-headed even when being beaten half-to-death. That definitely got him on Jabba’s hit list. 

Han doesn’t know much about Luke’s father aside from the fact that he was also a Jedi Knight and he showed up in the halos frequently during the smuggler’s younger years due to his large involvement in the Clone Wars, but Han would bet that a part of the kid’s rebellious streak comes from him, “The Hero with No Fear”. Years ago when Han had originally heard that title he had scoffed and thought ‘ _ Yeah right _ ’, but meeting the man’s son… he couldn’t help but reconsider that that title might have been on the mark.

He really wished the kid  _ would  _ have more trepidation going into things and not follow in his father’s footsteps as it would probably stop him from getting himself into situations like his current one. Han’s shaking which had died down due to his relaxed position once again resumed as he remembered the slug’s parting words before he had been ever so graciously escorted back to his cell. 

“ _ You’ve grown soft, Solo. Your emotions betray you. Your execution has been pushed out one week, but I think I shall keep the Jedi for myself. He could be useful. Consider it my last favor to an old friend for keeping him alive,”  _ The look on Jabba’s face and booming laugh told him everything he needed to know and he knew Luke’s “use” for the slug would simply be to entertain him and his guests by seeing a mighty Jedi Knight tamed by the all-powerful Hutt, causing the kid even more pain and humiliation.

Han didn’t know it was possible for him to feel as much dread as he was feeling now and not having it be in self-interest. Jabba was right, he was becoming soft and, alarmingly, that fact didn’t frighten him at all. What would his old employers think of him now as they saw the notorious Han Solo, who had no attachments, stuck in such a situation because of love. His love for Leia is what got him into this mess, but he would do it again in a heartbeat if it guaranteed her safety in getting her off that frozen hell-hole.

Speaking of Leia, Han wondered where she had ended up as she was present for their “conversation” with Jabba and nothing further had been said about her in terms of execution. He hoped she was alright. Impossibly, even more worry reared its ugly head in Han, and the pirate was really starting to get sick of not knowing what was going on. 

He didn’t have much time to dwell on his frustrations because only a moment later he heard the tell-tale sign of footsteps coming from down the hall along with the shouts of an angry wookie. At first, Han just thought Chewie was angry at the way he was being handled, but then he started to make out what his companion was actually saying and he immediately scrambled up from his semi-comfortable position on the floor as the door slid open and the guards’ load was deposited roughly on the floor. The huff of breath he heard as the door closed and the feel of a scratchy cotton vest under his grasping fingers confirmed who Han heard his co-pilot bellowing about. 

Luke.

The figure groaned as the floor jolted his injuries and immediately Han was fumbling to find the kid’s armpits in order to help the younger man into a sitting position and to drag him slowly to the nearest wall. Once he was settled upright against the damp surface, Han gave him a half-blind glance over and winced. Even dim lighting and his less than optimal vision did nothing to help downplay the blossoming bruises, forming black-eye, and painful-looking split lip the kid’s blurry face now seemed to sport. 

“Hey, Han” the kid’s hoarse voice said as it cut through the rising tension in the cramped space and the older man would have hit him if the young Jedi wasn’t already covered head-to-toe in injuries. 

“Hey, Han?!” Han practically shouted in Luke’s face as his anger from earlier came rushing back, “All you have to say is ‘Hey, Han’ after you needlessly got yourself beaten to a pulp?!” 

Luke seemed to shrink in on himself and guilt surged into Han as he realized now probably wasn’t the best time to yell at him and adjusted his volume when he spoke again. 

“How hurt are you?” Han started over as all irritation disappeared from his voice and genuine concern seeped in. 

“I’ve had worse,” Luke answered and there was a hint of something there that Han couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

“Worse?” Han asked, disbelief sliding back into his tone despite himself, “Kid, I saw you after the Wampa attack and that was nothing compared to…” 

Han slowly trailed off as the quiet sound of sniffling reached his ears. 

“How hurt are you? Did they do anything else to you?” Han asked again but this time with a frantic tinge to his words as he wondered what could have happened when Han was no longer able to witness Jabba’s new favorite show. 

“No. I told you it’s not that bad.,” Luke replied quickly knowing his friend was panicking. Han noticed he avoided his other question, but he reluctantly let it go for now. He gave one final sniff and spoke again, “It’s just - I really missed you, Han,”

“I missed you too, kid,” Han said fondly while placing a hand gently on his cellmate’s arm, “I know it’s been a lot longer for you, but the weeks spent on Cloud City weren’t the same without- Hey, what’s wrong?” Han asked, confused when he felt Luke flinch strongly under where his hand rested on his shoulder. Luke attempted to stand in order to either pace the small length of the room or get away from the conversation, the smuggler didn’t know which, but Han grabbed his wrist to stop him so the kid didn’t injure himself further by moving. 

His right wrist. 

Harsh, rapid breathing assaulted Han’s ears as Luke violently tore his arm out of Han’s grip. Afraid that the kid had a severe injury, Han once again grabbed the limb regardless of the kid’s now obvious panic and clumsily felt with calloused fingers for a bump or swelling that would hint to a broken bone or sprain. He was surprised when not only did he find no injury, but he felt a grooved seam hinting to where a prosthetic met flesh. Stunned, Luke escaped from the now loose restraint on his hand and threw himself away from the other man despite the obvious pain it must have caused him, but Han barely noticed due to his whirlwinding thoughts. 

Why did the kid have a  _ prosthetic _ ?

And more importantly when he had lost an entire  _ limb _ without Han noticing? 

As he thought back to the first time he met the ex-farm boy on the dust ball that is Tatooine, Han knew that the kid had all his limbs. Even if he hadn’t, that type of technology didn’t exist that far into the Outer Rim so it would be impossible for him to get one that advanced without going to a Core world. Had he lost it on Hoth? That thought sent Han’s stomach plummeting. Was he not fast enough to save the kid’s hand from hypothermia? No, Han knew that wasn’t right either as he personally monitored the young pilot’s entire recovery (despite himself) and no way in that period did it go over Han’s head that the kid got an entire new  _ hand  _ installed _.  _

Then it suddenly hit him. 

Dark clothes, somber personality, and obvious trauma. 

Lando’s words in the cell before his submission in the carbon freeze came back to him. 

“ _ He’s looking for someone called, Skywalker,”  _

Vader. Vader had done this. 

It made so much horrifying sense to Han why the kid changed so drastically. He and Leia were the perfect bait and he had so predictably come to save them like the monster knew he would. Luke had faced Vader and lost, badly. And Han had probably just triggered what was a flashback when he had grabbed what the murderer had severed away so cruelly in a flash of terror and pain.

Great. As if he didn’t already feel guilty.

‘ _ At least the kid only lost his hand and not his life,’ _ Cold seeped down Han’s spine at that thought and he again marveled at the young man’s affinity to get into these types of situations. ‘ _ That means he’s alive to get into them,’ _ Han’s inner voice reminded him and he thanked any god that was listening that that was the case. Despite what he tried to tell convince himself of, Han cared about the kid, probably too much as the current predicament proved, and imagining the small blonde haired boy facing off against one of the most feared people in all of the galaxy, rivaled by maybe only the Emperor himself, made Han feel an emotion which he could only define as shavit.

Minutes passed and Luke’s panting finally died down to a less dangerous level and Han took his chance to approach where he thought the kid had gone off too. Sure enough he was tucked into the corner of the cell in a semi-trembling ball. Wordlessly, Han sat next to him so their shoulders were touching in a silent apology and a hesitant display of comfort. 

“So… Vader’s a nerf herder. Am I right?”

That got a soft chuckle out of the Jedi and the smuggler was grateful to know that his rash actions were already forgiven. 

“Yeah. Yeah, he really is,” 

And the two sat in a comfortable silence, happy to be back in each other's company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Reunited! Next chapter will be from Vader's POV as he does some investigating on Tatooine. Feel free to comment any thoughts on the chapter and thanks again for reading!


	6. Secrets, Secrets Are No Fun Unless You Share With Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lando is not happy with all the white lies building up as he caves to Luke's next horrible plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I just wanted to give a huge thank you for all the thoughtful and wonderful comments coming in. It means a lot that you give me positive and encouraging feedback while writing as it makes it all the more fun for me. :) Anyways, I thought I would change things up a bit and do a chapter from Lando's POV. Enjoy!

Lando didn’t dare to step away from Fett as the bounty hunter’s inferno-sparked rage slowly subsided. 

The ex-gambler could not stand by a moment longer when things had gone oh so terribly wrong in Jabba’s audience chamber. His confidence had soared prematurely at first when Luke had successfully defeated the rancor, and he had thought that the doomed plan may go smoothly after all. 

Until all hell broke loose.

The moment the Hutt’s intention had changed Lando knew by the look on the slug’s face and he also knew that their plan was about to go to shavit in a matter of seconds. He was reluctantly forced to stand guiltily on the sidelines as the young Jedi was singled out and roughly handled by the guards and bounty hunter. When the beating had started and then continued, he was unable to hold up his incognito guard façade when the sound of Han’s increasingly desperate cries were heard over Chewbacca’s roars and he shoved his way roughly through the rowdy crowd to save Luke from the man who would most definitely beat him within an inch of his life without Lando’s much needed intervention. 

He swore an oath to himself to not cause his old buddy any more pain after his betrayal against Han at Bespin, and Lando knew that seeing what the smooth-talking smuggler had determined to be the pirate’s pseudo little brother being stomped into the ground qualified as unpleasant for his friend. Plus, over the past months of plotting and devising, the young man in question had started to grow on Lando too as he learned that the mysterious figure Darth Vader had obsessed over during the lord’s stay on Cloud City was actually just a shy kid who still didn’t really know his place in the galaxy. So he stepped in to save the young Jedi’s skin despite the consequences that, with Lando’s luck, would probably follow. 

Whatever gods were out there must have been with him as no one reacted to his rash, unordered move as everyone’s attention was focused on the Jedi sprawled out on the sand-coated floor. Lando, recognizing that he didn’t blow his cover, immediately snapped his attention there as well. A beat of silence where he feared he was too late and the blonde boy was dead and then he coughed and blood splattered onto the ground and, despairingly, also onto Lando’s freshly polished boots. His nose scrunched underneath his helmet in distaste at the defilement of his wardrobe, yet a part of him was just glad the kid was still alive after taking such a solid beating that the half-crazed bounty hunter had dished out to him. 

Taking a chance to look around while everyone was still stunned by the turn of events, he quickly checked on the state of his other secret companions and held back a barely concealed wince at what he saw. Han’s face nearly crushed him as he saw both relief and devastation clearly painted across it. Lando didn’t want to imagine what it would be like not being able to physically see the violence toward his friend and only being able to hear the horrible crescendo of sounds that accompanied it. The newly appointed Rebellion general’s heart ached for him. 

A second glance towards Leia pulled on his heart strings when he saw tear tracks neatly making a path down her pale face and Lando put two and two together and realized that she also cared for Luke as an undeclared brother, and in a moment of clarity, he was sure that he was one of the only people in the universe who had ever seen the princess cry let alone twice in a matter of months. She hadn’t even cried when they put on that horrid collar that she now sported around her neck, which Lando immediately wanted to rip off upon sight.

The fact that she was crying now spoke volumes for the depth of her emotions toward Luke, and if he wasn’t convinced she saw him as family when she demanded they went back for him while escaping Bespin, then he was completely convinced now. 

Lando was also alarmed to notice that when he warily retracted his sweating hand from where it rested on Fett’s shoulder, it was shaking, mirroring his own distress that he hadn’t even registered. Apparently Luke Skywalker had a talent for getting underneath the skin of even the most hardened individuals and for turning them into a gooey mess without the person noticing it until it was shoved painfully into their face. 

Hell, if given the chance Lando was sure that he could make Darth Vader good. 

He scoffed internally at that laughable line of thinking and dismissed it without a second thought.

Panic sprung up in him as Fett started to reach for Luke’s helpless figure again as his temper once again spiked at some new burst of rage spurred by the man’s angry thoughts, and Lando began to wonder if he would have to blow his disguise after all, and then his suddenly tense shoulders sagged in relief as Jabba began to speak stopping the metal-clad man in his tracks.

“ _ You’ve grown soft, Solo. Your emotions betray you, _ ” Lando glanced over at Han and saw that the same pained expression from before was on his face and he had to agree with the slug’s words. Even when Lando had first met the seemingly hardened smuggler the gambler could tell the pirate wore his emotions on his sleeve. He had noted to himself it would come back to bite him in the butt one day. Lando just didn’t think he would be there to see it or be so hopelessly involved in the fallout.

“ _ Your execution has been pushed out one week, but I think I shall keep the Jedi for myself. He could be useful. Consider it my last favor to an old friend for keeping him alive, _ ” The Hutt finished with a quiet chuckle. 

So much for untensing his shoulders. 

Han was dragged away by guards spitting expletives the entire time and Lando took a moment to be impressed until he refocused on the terrible situation he found himself in. The only upside was that the execution of Han and Chewie had been bumped out a week which would allow them more time to think of a new plan. Well, more like give  _ him  _ time to think of one. No one else was really in the position to think of anything but saving their own skins. 

Jabba barked something else and guards scrambled towards Luke as the Jedi was spotted attempting to rise from the floor. Lando, always quick on his feet, beat one of the Gamorreans to it and secured the spot at Luke’s left side. Guiltily he heaved him as gently as he could to his knees, trying to ignore the low groan that came out of the kid from that motion. 

Silence reigned in the chamber as the surrounding audience held their breath as they waited for Jabba to give his next, most likely, cruel order. A glance down at Luke told him that the bruised face was screwed up into a determined glare and he himself became anxious as he remembered that face from minutes earlier before the Jedi spouted something that he could have only learned from Han and then was almost murdered by Fett for it. A quiet rattle of chains diagonally to his right let him know that Leia was also unsettled and he felt some sort of weird twisted comfort at the fact that he wasn’t the only one. 

Suddenly, the Gamorrean positioned on Luke’s right side pulled out a syringe looking device and plunged it ruthlessly into the soft flesh of Luke’s neck not covered by the mysterious collar, and cold dread seeped into Lando’s now icy veins as he saw what the object was. 

During his smuggling days, he had made many visits to the mines on Kessel to make runs for valuable supplies, and Kessel was well-known for one thing. 

Slavery. 

Slave transmitter chips are common practice in the Outer Rim where slavery is technically illegal but not enforced by the loose control of the Empire as it was mostly Hutt controlled space. Lando had shamefully smuggled a couple loads of the things in the old days before he developed better morals due to responsibility and leadership. He and Han had actually, ironically, been there together before when they were still frenemies (emphasize on the enemies). One of the things that he would never forget that he saw there, however, was the day he saw a slaver activate one of the chips in the neck of a runaway slave. Lando was forced to clean the brain matter off of the hull of the Falcon before he could take off. 

Blessedly, Luke didn’t make a sound when the needle was jabbed uncaringly into his throat, and Lando had to admire him for it. Jedi Knight indeed. Though, he couldn’t help but feel sick at the thought of there literally being a ticking time bomb inside of his new friend’s head. 

The guard then pulled out the accompanying tracking and detonating device and in rising horror he watched as it was handed over to none other than Boba Fett himself. The man known for his vendetta against all things Jedi and apparently against Luke personally as he was now hanging semi-limply in Lando’s grip due to the recent bout of attention shown to him by the hitman. Lando figured it had something to do with Fett’s idolized father and some other personal motive. Both were not good, but combined, Lando seriously feared for his buddy’s safety. 

Jabba’s stubby finger was suddenly pointed directly at his face and time seemed to slow down as he froze to the spot, hand tightening slowly and unconsciously on Luke’s arm as his panic soared. Had he been discovered? Did his intervention not go unnoticed after all? Lando was the only ace left in their sleeves besides the droids so what would happen to his friends? Would they all be killed due to Jabba’s paranoia of infiltration? What would happen to the Rebellion? It would be losing three of its most powerful leaders.

A hiss of air between Luke’s teeth brought Lando out of his unnaturally uncollected thoughts and he loosened his clasp on his arm as if he had been burned and gave a softer squeeze in apology. He was just in time to catch the tail end of Jabba’s demand. 

“... _ take him to the droidsmith to remove his collar and put him in a cell with Solo. He won’t be running now. _ ” Jabba ordered the still reeling Lando and the gambler wanted to punch his leering face in for taking the enslavement of his friend so lightly. Ignoring Leia’s glare in response to him agreeing to take Luke to some unknown place out of her sight, he gave a nod and quickly led both him and Luke into the hall, the “ho”-ing of the Hutt’s laughter and the jeering of the crowd following them as they went. As soon as they were out of view, Lando slung the left arm of the stumbling Jedi over his shoulders and led them to a deserted corridor far away from anyone who might benefit from listening in on their conversation. He let the young man allow gravity to take him to the floor and helped him lean against the hallway wall, careful not to jostle his most likely broken ribs. 

Now that he had nobody to hold up his façade to, Luke paled significantly as the suppressed pain hit him full force and a fine sheen of perspiration reflected off of his brow from the effort of holding it back. Lando thought he looked worse than Han, which was saying something as the old smuggler looked like hell by himself. A slight trembling in his black clothed limbs told him that he was still somehow being influenced by that-that  _ thing _ around his neck and Lando was thankful that it was being taken off. It still didn’t matter as one form of slavery was being swapped for another, this time literal slavery. Lando didn’t know how to get them all out of this one. He was about to speak but then the kid beat him to it. 

“Lando, I need you to promise me you won’t tell Han,” The look on his face told him not to argue, but when did that ever stop him.    
  


“Luke, I can’t keep something like this from him, and you know that. He would never forgive me if I just happened to leave out the fact that his best friend was enslaved to his own archenemy,” Lando said exasperated that he would even suggest such a thing. He only just started to repair the lost trust between him and the old pirate and he wasn’t going to destroy that by keeping invaluable information about the safety of his friend to himself. 

“But if you tell him, then he won’t leave without me. I know Leia will see sense and leave me behind even though it would hurt her to do so, but Han wouldn’t be able to help himself and the whole mission will be blown,” Luke argued back and Lando froze. Had Luke lost all hope already for his own escape? That didn’t sound like the kid he had grown to know. What in the  _ kriff  _ was going on? 

After a moment of silence he just went for it. 

“Luke,” he said as though he speaking to a toddler and not a fully grown Jedi Knight, “What’s going on,”

A soft reply. “Promise you won’t tell, Han?” 

Lando sighed. He couldn’t refuse him when he asked like that. 

“Fine, but you owe me one,” He conceded and Luke’s face lighting up into something of his old self made thinking of telling Han a whole lot of white lies a little more bearable.

“I think Boba Fett is working for another employer,” 

Lando’s face must have shown visible confusion as Luke quickly continued. 

“What I’m wearing,” he said with a gesture towards the piece of metal wrapped around his neck, “Is called a force suppressor. It stops me from connecting with and using the force which is what gives me, as you would refer to it, my “powers”. This type of technology was supposed to be wiped out a long time ago by the Empire, and I don’t think it’s something Jabba would have been able to get his hands on, especially not when he operates mainly in the Outer Rim. This had to have come from the Core Worlds which tells me Fett’s allegiance is to whoever supplied him with this,” he finished leaving Lando’s head reeling from the dump of information and the speed at which it was delivered. 

“So let me get this straight, you think Fett is working for someone else?” Luke nodded. 

“How were you planning on finding out who this supposed mysterious employer is?”

A guilty look came across the young man’s face as he looked anywhere but at Lando and suddenly his little performance earlier began to make sense. 

“Your plan was to make him spill it to you while you were unconscious,” 

The Jedi’s face flushed red from embarrassment and his shoulders shrugged as much as they could with the restriction of the collar.    
  


“Well…when you put it like that,” he muttered under his breath but loud enough for Lando to hear.

Lando shook his head in bewilderment at the sheer stupidity of that plan. 

“So how are you going to find out who the employer is now?” 

A shaky hand moved to brush through the owner’s sandy hair in a clear display of nervousness and Lando’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

The kid murmured something else, but this time he couldn’t make it out.

“What was that?” 

“I’mgoingtoletFetttakemetowhoeveremployedhimandthenescape.”

“One more time?” Lando asked growing slightly impatient that Luke wouldn’t just spit it out.

“I’m going to let Fett take me to whoever employed him...then escape?” 

Lando’s brain temporarily short-circuited as he registered what Luke was actually proposing. The idea was crazy. It was a suicide mission. Han would kill him if he ever found out he knew the kid’s intentions and didn’t stop him. But Lando was not known for his people skills and he doubted he would be able to talk Luke out of going through with that plan even if he tried. He might as well try to help the kid make things go as smoothly as possible instead of letting him do it alone. 

“What are you going to do about that transmitter chip?” 

Luke smiled at Lando’s understanding and then the grin dropped off his face as he remembered his recent induction into slavery. The young Jedi was taking it surprisingly in stride, but Lando knew that the insult to his humanity must be killing him.

“Well, I’m getting the collar taken off which will allow me to access the force so I may be able to deactivate it that way,” 

“May be able to?” Lando asked as he was uncomfortable with yet another plan that had so many unknown variables. It was justified as he looked back on how this one had turned out. 

“Look, all I need is for you to do is make sure no one but Fett gets their hands on that transmitter and make sure Han doesn’t do anything too stupid. I can take care of myself,” Luke said gently with a reassuring smile that did nothing to help Lando’s continually growing worries. 

“All right,” Lando started willing to trust him for now, “I just don’t see how-” 

He was cut off as four Gamorrean guards and a restrained wookie rounded the corner and he perked to attention as his brain scrambled for an excuse.

“He’s heavy,” Lando said in poor Huttese, “He no walk,” he finished lamely and the guards paused at his horrible language skills and then marched over to wrangle Luke off of the floor. A meaningful nod in his direction was the last thing Lando saw from Luke as he was hauled around the corner, and Lando stood there just absorbing what he had just signed up for. 

Good thing he knew how to keep a poker face as he was about to do a lot more lying. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Lando how did he get into this mess. Thanks for reading and as always comment any thoughts you have on the chapter!   
> -Mwppff<3


	7. Sand is Proven to Produce Mood Swings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader runs into too much alcohol is unable to have any for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! I originally wanted to space these updates out by at least a day but I just learned I'll be busy tomorrow and I didn't want to wait to post this next chapter. Enjoy the second update of the day!

The landing crew of the Mos Espa spaceport scurried away as they saw the bulky figure of Darth Vader appear at the top of the exit ramp of the Imperial shuttle. 

_ The Executor  _ had arrived in the system that morning and the twin suns were shining brightly overhead signaling that it was now noon on Tatooine. 

The black armored figure paid no heed to the blistering heat, however, as his suit like prison kept a cooling system running for the current climate. Red tinted vision took in the sand covered landing pad with strong distaste, but he stopped himself from reentering the ship for the sake of his son.

_ “I hate sand. It’s coarse, and rough, and irritating. And it gets everywhere.” _

With a long sigh that was unable to be translated by his vocoder, Vader stopped that memory in its tracks and turned sharply around to face the troops waiting uneasily for their commands. They too knew of the Dark Lord’s strong dislike for the planet and were thus rightfully fearful of their commander’s mood. 

That helped Vader feel a little bit better. 

“I want all surrounding spaceports searched for the ship called the  _ Millennium Falcon _ . Failure to find its location will result in a demotion,” Vader snapped, his patience evaporating away along with any moisture that remained on the shuttle’s hull. Instantly, cold fear shot through the squad as they knew that being demoted meant death by the Sith’s standards. 

Satisfied that the troopers knew their orders were clear, he turned to the trembling port supervisor who was unable to run away with the rest of his colleagues because of his duties, though it was painfully obvious to Vader that the man dearly wanted to. 

“Have you seen or heard anything about the  _ Millennium Falcon  _ being harbored in Mos Espa?” The Sith snarled at the incompetent man, and the technician practically turned transparent underneath his sun-kissed skin. 

“N-no, my Lord. Not c-confirmed,” the man stuttered in broken basic and Vader was slightly impressed he was able to form a coherent sentence at all in his presence, “T-there were some f-folks at a local can-cantina talking about a-a wookie arriving with some o-other gent on an o-old smuggler ship, b-but Bossk thought they were p-pulling his leg,” 

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Vader replied and then casually snapped the man’s neck with the force. He could not have people knowing he was looking for the ship or its supposed occupants as he felt great paranoia that his son’s kidnappers (or killers) would attempt to flee him. 

Vader would not let them get away that easily.

He left the body for the supervisor’s employees to dispose of and started on his way.

With begrudging muscle memory, he strode purposely to the cantina where rumors of the ship originated. Halfway there however, he stopped as a familiar storefront appeared in his view. 

The shop was obviously abandoned about half a decade ago as the structural integrity was falling apart and it looked as though it had been raided on multiple occasions. Almost as though possessed, Vader found himself striding over to the crumbling building and folding his enormous frame to fit inside the slightly collapsed opening. 

_ “Are you an angel?” _

His cape flicked over a pile of useless scrap metal as he swiftly turned around and exited Watto’s store as soon as he came.

Already memories were bubbling to the surface in this wasteland, as he knew they would, but he refused to let long forgotten memories of-of  _ her  _ distract his mind from his mission of finding his troublesome son and having him take a place at his side where he belonged. 

“ _ Will I ever see you again?” _

_ “What does your heart tell you?” _

Unbidden, more phantoms squeezed past the tightly sealed vault in Vader’s mind and emotional pain followed as now even thoughts of his mother penetrated his carefully built wall of rage. 

Thankfully, the Sith lord spotted the cantina only yards ahead, and he practically jogged to close the extra distance and get out of the familiar streets. His path was cleared immediately by terror-struck citizens and he didn’t know why the sight of them cowering in fear made him feel uncomfortable for once and not overjoyed as usual.

  
The rancid smell of spilled alcohol and vomit filled his helmet before it was filtered out and the unwelcome scent helped clear Vader’s jumbled head and calm his frantic heartbeat. The noise that accompanied such a loathsome establishment would have finished the job of banishing his stress if it wasn’t for the fact that the entire pub went completely silent as his unmistakable figure took up the doorframe. His respirator was the only noise that filled the stale air as he deliberately made his way slowly over to the bartender in order to have the man trembling in his boots by the time he arrived. 

“Where is Bossk? He is a regular attendee of this, what you have dared to call, an establishment,” He asked, his tone clearly conveying that it wasn’t a question as he let his vocoder drop a couple octaves lower than normal. 

The manager’s eyes began to roll into the back of his head in pure terror, but before Vader could demand an answer, movement was spotted out of the corner of his eye and there was a flash of warning from the force. The blaster aimed for his chest plate was ripped out of the owner’s hand and into his own as the owner himself was trapped by the Sith in an invisible chokehold from across the room. 

“Bossk, I’m assuming?,” Vader questioned harshly, no longer in the mood for games as the humanoid had tested his last nerve by making him relive buried reminders of his past and now, more recently, attempting to murder him in cold blood. 

Vader had wanted to do his questioning away from prying eyes after locating the man who he now collected to be a bounty hunter by his attire. Now, however, the alien left him no choice as any other movement would give him an unwanted audience and any questions he would ask would surely find their way around, which would lead to his son slipping through his fingers and the whole endeavor would be for naught. So with much frustration Vader ended the hitman’s life with a simple flick of his wrist and his victim fell into an unmoving heap on the floor. 

The patrons, now satisfied that whatever business the Emperor’s right-hand man had was over, warily went back to sipping their putrid drinks and commenced their mindless chatter. 

Mood darker than ever, Vader exited back into the sweltering heat as the twin suns now showed it was late afternoon. His temper spiked at the thought of precious hours wasted in the search for his son, and a speeder nearby creaked in displeasure as it became an outlet for his rage. Clenching his fists, he left the now dented vehicle behind as he resumed his determined walk in the direction of the shuttle wanting to regroup with his stormtroopers to discover if they yielded better results than him in their search as he was now eager to kill them if they hadn’t. 

A pair of what appeared to be drunken men were hollering and howling in glee over something in a back alleyway nearby and Vader would have continued storming onwards if it wasn’t for a firm nudge from the Force telling him to pay closer attention to the drunkards. He thought that the Force was gravely mistaken as he watched the two practically collapse under the strain of their laughter, and he prepared to continue on as they were not worth his already wasted time. 

That is until one of them spoke. 

“Did-did you see the Jedi’s f-face when Fett-?!” The taller man managed to stutter out between laughter as his voice was once again cut off by his infernal howling. 

Vader stiffened at the mention of a Jedi and he knew that that could only mean Luke. Eavesdropping complete, Vader entered the alley himself in order to confront the two people who had crossed paths with his son. 

As a dark shadow blocked out the glaring lights created by the suns, both men looked up first in confusion and then wide-eyed surprise as their alcohol soaked brains registered that it was Darth Vader. Their intoxicated legs were no match for the precise prosthetics the Sith wore and they soon found themselves cornered by the sheer bulk of Vader and the sandstone wall when they attempted to flee. The two laughed as if this was some sort of newly discovered game.

“The Jedi. Did he give a name?” Vader was tired of asking so many questions in one day and itched to just kill them for insulting his son now.

“I think it was Starkiller?” the shorter man slurred, mind not functioning properly due to the obscene amounts of alcohol he had most likely consumed. “No. Skyhopper?” He looked to his companion for help but the man simply gave him a dopey grin and a shrug in response. 

Imbeciles.

“Sky _ walker _ ?” Vader supplied for him as the man’s brain was obviously unable to come up with the correct response. 

“Yeah that’s it!” the taller man shouted far too loudly for their current quarters and the shorter man giggled despite himself at the unexpected volume. 

“Where. Did. You. See. Him?” Vader hissed out through gritted teeth as he had to physically restrain himself from killing both idiotic men lest he not find Luke.

“Jabba’s palace,” replied the two in unison as they both sobered up immediately when they finally gathered that they should be fearing for their lives. 

Vader’s force signature was doused in a bucket of cold fear of his own. 

What had his son gotten himself into now? 

Vader himself knew firsthand just how cruel and volatile the Hutts could be due to his less than pleasant childhood, and panic rose within him at the thought of his son being in one of their clutches. Not only that, but the snickering man had also mentioned something about Fett which meant that the disintegration-happy bounty hunter was somehow involved in Luke’s disappearance as well. He would bet anything that it had to do with that accursed smuggler Fett had taken and that a poorly executed rescue attempt went wrong. 

He needed to get to Luke  _ now.  _

Fortunately, his unwilling time as a child spent on Tatooine left him knowing the locations of all the desert planet’s important landmarks including the Hutt’s palace which was in the far part of the Dune Sea, so he did not have to squander any more precious moments “questioning” his next two murder victims. It was best to tie off any loose ends in case Fett decided to run.

He raised a hand to carelessly snap their tracheas when suddenly one of the men's’ faces became clear to him as the sun filtered through his lifted arm. Shocked to his core, Vader moved backwards to lean against the opposing wall of the alleyway.

It was his childhood friend Kitster Banai. 

_ “You don’t even know if this thing’s gonna run!”  _

The faces of his mother and Qui-Gon Jinn and the joy from podracing and happier times came in waves, and he wanted to kill his grown friend now just for sparking those images. The Anakin Skywalker part of him had shown up far too much today for his liking and this simple kill would help in eradicating him from his consciousness forever. He raised a steady hand to end Banai’s life.

Yet…

The Sith audibly growled in frustration as he was unable to proceed forward with the action and snapped Kitster’s companion’s neck instead. 

“Remember this day when you ever think of questioning your allegiance to the Empire,” Vader snarled with a finger in Banai’s face and turned on his heel to stomp away to his transport, leaving his old companion and childhood behind. 

Only once he reached the relative safety of the ship did the Dark Lord finally expel what was left of his fear for his son into the force, heal any torn open scars from his past, and replace the stinging in his heart with the more familiar feeling of anger. One spot of intruding light would not go away, however, and it left the Sith both confused and frustrated. Until he connected the ray to its source.

Luke. 

Hope and glee reigned as relief washed over him in soft waves as he now guiltlessly touched the light which confirmed that his son was, in fact, not dead. The bond was also stronger than ever which discerned that he too was on Tatooine. The nightmare was almost over and his child would soon be where he belonged as his heir. 

And now Vader had a light to help guide him to his side. 

This completely refreshed Vader’s mood, and when the stormtroopers came back from their patrol, filled with dread because they did not locate the  _ Falcon _ , he did not kill a single one of them much to their utter relief and shock. 

He tried not to think about how for the briefest moment, he had touched the light, and for once, was not burned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo Vader finally found out where Luke is! He really needs to get away from Tatooine if he wants to continue to be his grumpy self. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think! Best wishes!  
> -Mwppff<3


	8. Breathing is Overrated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke's attempts to help others makes him a self-sacrificial idiot who may have gotten in over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Long time no see! I'm so so sorry for the lack of updating during the entire month of July. I just really needed some time to step away from some of my responsibilities and focus on myself for a while, but I'm back! I am so excited to continue this story as it's really starting to get down to the juicy bits. Enjoy this long deserved chapter!

Luke was startled out of a restless sleep by a womp rat scurrying across his ankles. 

Scrambling back out of both disgust and confusion, the screaming of his injuries and the feeling of the damp, rough floor beneath his fingertips reminded his drowsy, awakening brain of his newest run in with trouble. Instinctively, he checked to see if his cellmate was still present and accounted for as he tried to bring back air into his bruised lungs, and he let out an internal sigh of relief to see that Han was not only there but still blessedly asleep. 

The young Jedi had put Han in a semi-successful healing trance about a day ago knowing that the older man needed immediate medical attention due to his hibernation sickness going unattended for almost forty-eight hours, and treatment was crucial. Luke had felt slightly guilty while doing so as he knew that had his friend been aware, the ex-smuggler would have protested (probably loudly) and made Luke take care of his own more life-threatening injuries first without hearing any excuses, but Han had unknowingly slipped into the trance Luke had suggested when he gave into his desire to sleep, oblivious to what was really happening. The Jedi would have attempted to slip into meditation and heal himself as well afterwards, but even that usually effortless reach out to the Force had sapped him of all his energy before he could even consider the idea.

_ ‘Side effects of the collar _ ,’ Luke thought bitterly.

He could not begin to describe his relief when the less-than-gentle blacksmith had finally pried the collar away from the raw, chafed skin of his neck. His eyes had watered from both the air hitting his newly exposed wounds and his utter relief at his reconciliation with the Force, shaky as the connection was. The lack of the familiar guiding light had left him with an empty feeling equivalent to a black hole swallowing a supernova, leaving him in a seemingly endless darkness. His very soul seemed to scream in disapproval as the rest of his body echoed its distaste as it too pulsed with agony and unease at his helplessness.

Tremors and chills still shook his small frame as his fever continued to spike far past healthy levels and a skull-splitting headache pounded a hole through his sluggishly bleeding head wound. To be fair though, Luke couldn’t tell if those symptoms were related to the piece of shavit that was the hell-spawn metalwork previously around his neck or signs of infection beginning to set in along with a concussion. 

_ ‘Probably both,’  _ He decided as a particularly fierce stab of pain originated from his red-rimmed transmitter sight. 

_ Slavery. _

Luke was still unable to wrap his head around that.

The concept of slavery itself was not new to Luke as he had grown up on Tatooine, an Outer Rim planet with a strong disregard for Imperial policy. Sheltered as his childhood was, Luke could not ignore his aunt and uncle’s paranoid glances towards alleyways or a quick head turn that revealed the sight of a slave auction on the occasions he went into town. 

During one of the rare times his Aunt Beru had told him stories about his father’s family, after weeks of begging and pleading on the young farmboy’s part, Luke had been shocked to learn that his grandmother was a slave before being freed by his Grandpa Cliegg when the two fell in love and got married. Luke had never met his rumored, kind-hearted grandmother as she had died long before her grandson was even born but...

What would she think of him if she was here now?

Luke ruined her legacy and tainted her memory by recklessly getting himself trapped in the thing she had spent so long trying to escape.

She would hate him. 

_ Slavery. _

Luke quickly shut and screwed up his unswollen eye in order to stop the tears that wanted to flow.

He felt dirty. He felt like he had just landed in the trash compactor on the Death Star and the surrounding grey water was seeping past the armour into his very bones. Because to Jabba and the others that’s what he was to them. 

Trash. 

He was no better than garbage now. Something to simply use and throw away at the first sign of weakness or breakage. 

Logically, Luke knew that wasn’t true. That he was still his own person and he was not just a means to Fett’s and Jabba’s twisted ends, but that didn’t mean that the stripping of his humanity didn’t hurt any less.

Frustrated where his thoughts had taken him, Luke lifted his right hand to run it through his sweat soaked and blood caked hair. Upon seeing the artificial limb, his already somber mood darkened even further.

The prosthetic reminded him that even his own father saw him as some sort of tool. Vader only wanted him to help fulfill his own agenda. Beyond that, the Sith could care less if his only child lived or died. The fact that Luke’s friends were in this situation in the first place was a testament to that. It seemed Vader had a knack for exposing Luke’s weaknesses and making him feel powerless.

Luke started when the man beside him stirred before settling back into sleep and Luke looked on with tortured eyes. 

He had a burning ache to tell his best friend about his enslavement and his internal dilemma about his father, knowing that the smuggler seemed to always know what to say without making the Jedi feel stupid, but Luke had already caused his friend so much pain and did not want to imagine the look that would cross Han’s face when he told the older man that he was now property of Boba Fett and the son of Darth Vader. Both were two of the pirate’s worst enemies. He also knew Han would flat out refuse to leave without Luke in tow which would lead to all them probably getting killed in a failed escape attempt anyway. At the very least Han would be for getting in the bounty hunter’s way. 

Luke’s heart skipped a beat simply thinking about it.

The Rebellion pilot cautiously moved his head from its place on the wall to test if he would spiral back into unconsciousness at the movement, now more determined than ever to finish what he set out to do. Feeling that his headache had receded enough to a point where he felt like he would no longer drop dead where he sat, Luke grabbed his still flimsy grasp on the Force and  _ pushed. _

White light immediately burst in front of his closed eyelids in a firework display as the pain in his head climbed to excruciating levels. Not sensing what he was looking for, he grit his teeth and stretched out even further.

_ ‘Leia…’ _

The message was barely a whisper but he could sense her surprise at his unexpected appearance just before his concentration snapped like a rubber band and he collapsed back against the wall, spent. 

The cell came in and out of focus as he struggled to push back against the waves of unconsciousness that threatened to swallow him whole at any given moment. Something warm and sticky fell from his nose and mixed with the sweat now cascading down his face in rivlets, and he didn’t need to look to know it was blood. It was worth it however when a timid voice broke through his freshly renewed fevered haze. 

_ ‘Luke?’ _

_ ‘Leia’  _ Luke replied, relief filling their reawakened mental bond from both sides.

_ ‘Luke! Oh force! Are you okay?!’ _ He could feel her deep worry as if it were his own as her overwhelming emotions practically rammed into him with their intensity.

_ ‘I’m fine, Leia. Don’t worry about me,’  _

_ ‘I can feel you,’  _

For a moment Luke’s face twisted, confused by what she meant by the weird phrasing of words, but then he realized he was practically broadcasting his pain across the unfiltered link. His face burned red from shame at his weakness being revealed so openly.

‘ _ Luke, no. Don’t you dare blame yourself for feeling pain. You’re not indestructible,’  _ Leia ridiculed him and her disapproval was clear in her words even without sensing her agitation. 

_ ‘I should be’  _ He thought sadly, but he made sure to keep that thought to himself. 

_ ‘Leia, I don’t have much time.’ _ Luke said quickly, and it was true. His breathing, already labored from his multiple broken ribs, had turned into a frantic fight for air as he forced his lungs to expand and contract. Leia was meeting his mental grasp far past halfway, but Luke still felt as though he was sinking deeper and deeper into the quicksand of the Dune Sea with every second the connection stayed open. Knowing time was running out, Luke relayed his message quickly.

_ ‘Fett has some sort of ulterior motive linked to another top seller. Lando will be taking over in my place when the time to enact the plan comes. I need you to get Han, Lando, Chewie, and the droids and get out,’  _ Luke said in a rush. The blood from his nose had managed to soak through the front of his shirt. 

‘ _ But what about you.’  _ It wasn’t a question. Leia knew him too well to not expect him to pull some self-sacrificial stunt. She technically wasn’t wrong, but at least this time he had a reason. Even if she definitely wouldn’t approve of his methods. 

‘ _ I’ve got it handled,’  _ He assured her, forcing himself to feel confidence he really did not believe was warranted himself.

_ ‘Luke… I don’t want to lose anyone else,’  _

That made him feel guilty. 

Leia was the strongest person Luke had ever met. The Princess of Alderaan had been through more hardship in a couple years than Luke had been through in his entire lifetime, yet she was still able to lead the Rebellion and stay stone faced through death and destruction at every turn. He was one of the few trusted people that Leia had allowed to see her with her guard down. She suffered many nightmares after the Death Star and Bespin. There were many times when they both couldn’t sleep due to being plagued by horrible visions, and although Luke could not talk about the root of his own fears because they were linked to his father, he was there to help Leia when she unraveled at the seams after a particularly bad dream and in the process learned that she probably harbored more demons than half of the Rebellion combined. The last thing he wanted was to put her through more grief by separating under such horrible circumstances, but this was something he knew he needed to do.

‘ _ You won’t’  _ he quietly responded knowing that the simple declaration would mean more to her than any other pointless promises he could give. Warmth radiated across the bond and Luke knew that he had won her over even if it was reluctantly. 

Out of nowhere, a coughing fit overtook him and pure panic set in when he realized his airway was blocked when he had finished hacking up a lung. Luke desperately opened and closed his mouth, trying to drag oxygen into his unresponsive organs to no avail. Black spots began to take over his vision as Luke clawed at his throat, attempting to clear whatever decided to lodge itself in his trachea. He could feel Leia’s terror through the still open bond and he realized with a kind of detached wonder that he might actually be dying. 

It seemed ironic to Luke that this is the way he would go.

His father had suffocated countless victims during his time as Darth Vader, unbothered by the lives he was taking or the ones he was ruining in the process. Was this the Force’s way of punishing him for his father’s mistakes? How would his father react learning that his long-lost son died in a filthy dungeon choking on his own saliva if he ever discovered Luke’s whereabouts? The Sith Lord would most likely laugh in Jabba’s face. 

Suddenly, just before the encroaching darkness of death could cover him completely, something whacked Luke in the back.  _ Hard. _

Immediately, whatever was blocking Luke’s throat came out with a disgusting  _ squelch  _ and spattered onto the ground in front of him. 

_ ‘Blood,’  _ Luke registered with half-noticed alarm. He was more focused on the fact that he regained the ability to simply  _ breathe. _

Blessed oxygen filled his lungs and the  _ danger, danger, danger _ the Force was screaming at him quieted down to a gentle whisper. Luke continued to take in lungfuls of air despite his ribs obvious displeasure until the all the black spots receded, and then he finally turned his attention to who or what had saved him. 

“...id! Kid! Luke! Hey give a guy a heart attack would ya! Deep breaths, kid, there you go.” 

_ ‘Han’ _ Luke’s brain finally reconnected to all of its appropriate senses and noticed that his smuggler friend was now awake. 

Talk about timing.

With a sheepish smile Luke glanced up at his friend from his folded position on the floor, but instead of a look of bewilderment on Han’s face, there was one of fear. The Jedi reflexively looked behind himself thinking there was an intruder, but saw that they were alone as they had been the entire time. Luke turned back to his friend, and the reason for Han’s discomfort dawned on him. The smuggler’s eyes were not just looking in his general direction they were looking directly at him which meant he had finally regained his eyesight.

“I look that bad, huh?” Luke joked half-heartedly, unable to handle the tense silence that had filled the small space. 

“Kid…” That was all Han managed to say before his jaw worked and he seemed unable to form any other words. 

“I’ll kill him,” Han seemed to decide on vocalizing after a long moment, and Luke was surprised by the sheer intensity packed behind that statement. Sure, Han could be hotheaded sometimes, but he acted more out of irritation than actual anger. The maniac gleam in Han’s eyes told him this was something completely different and he almost pitied Fett for what was surely coming for him. 

Slowly, so it looked casual, Luke popped up his shirt collar to hide the semi-visible needle wound. He did not need to not clue the smuggler in on his most recent piece of ill-treatment. If Han was angry now, Luke didn’t want to imagine what his reaction would be to seeing the telltale sign of  _ enslavement _ . Besides, Luke had already decided that for the safety of all his friends, Han could not find out until the time was right, even if it meant he had to hide it. 

Luckily, the Force was with him, and the ex-gambler simply passed it off as a nervous gesture and nothing more. What Han did notice however was the shakiness of Luke’s limbs and the fine sheen of sweat that must have completely coated his face. In a very un-Han-like-fashion the smuggler slapped a hand on the younger man’s forehead to gage his temperature. He jerked his hand away as if burned, and with how high his fever was, Luke wouldn’t be surprised if he had been.

“Luke! You’re burning up!” At that moment Han sounded just like his Aunt Beru, but he was sure his friend would not appreciate that comparison.

“Han, it’s alright. I’m fine,” Between him and Leia, Luke was starting to feel overly coddled.

“You are not  _ fine _ . You’re hotter than a nerf steak sitting out in the twin suns! How in the  _ kriff  _ did this happen?!” 

Luke winced under the older man’s tirade, but the once regularly heard shouting reminded him of who was usually on the receiving end. With a slightly annoyed yet fond sigh and shake of his head, Luke ignored Han completely and despite his better judgement, once again reached out towards his pseudo-sister. 

As soon as the channel reopened Leia was practically screaming in his ear. 

“ _ Luke! Luke! Answer me dammit! Luke-”  _

_ “Leia I’m here,”  _ Han was shouting somewhere in the back of his conscious awareness but Luke tuned it out assuming the smuggler-turned-general was just on his case for ignoring him.

“ _ Sorry I-“  _

_ “Luke! Listen to me right now! Imperials are storming the palace and Vader-!”  _

_ No no no- _

In disbelief, Luke severed their connection not caring if he cut Leia off. Already past his limit yet needing answers only the Force could provide, he braced himself and for a final time  _ pushed _ . Another round of chest rupturing coughs escaped him from the pure stress being put on his body and mind, and a bitter taste alerted him that it was blood that had entered his mouth. Frantic with rising fear that boiled like lava in his chest, Luke ignored the roaring pain rearing inside his shredded head, desperate to locate the presence that could only belong to one man. 

A dark, cold vice suddenly wrapped almost protectively around Luke’s mind in response to his probing until the blonde boy could not take the strain a moment longer and his grasp on the Force slipped through his fingers. He snapped his eyes open in horror as he realized his father had come for him. 

Only to be met with the sight of the barrel of Boba Fett’s blaster pointing directly at his face.. 

“You’re coming with me  _ Jedi,” _  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooff. Luke can't seem to catch a break. I'm not super thrilled with the way this particular chapter turned out, but it is taking the story to where I want it to be so I let it slide. I hope you liked it! As always let me know any thoughts in the comments! I'll see you in two weeks!  
> -Mwppff <3


	9. Fett's Classic Villain Monologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader and Fett have a chat while look is uncomfortably sandwiched in the middle, and things just get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Here's the next long expected chapter! This one was probably the hardest one for me to write so far as I had to really focus on setting up the story in the correct way which is harder than it sounds. This is a Vader POV with Luke sprinkled in there so I hope you enjoy!

Vader force pushed a squealing Gamorrean guard into the wall of the passage. 

It had taken the impatient Sith Lord a little less than a full day to gather the necessary number of troops and fly across Tatooine to the Dune Sea in order to retrieve Luke.

His alive,  _ not dead _ son.

He had been monitoring his child’s weak yet reawakened Force presence like a hawk throughout the entire journey from Mos Espa to the palace. The bond, still not fully acknowledged, pulsed slightly with echoing pain and it was all Vader could do to not make a fool of himself in front of his subordinates and take control of the shuttle and fly it himself. Fifty troops had accompanied Vader on the long, tense flight and he would be exiting the craft with forty-seven at his disposal. 

Vader, always a strategist, planned on attacking at night when the Hutt’s court would be caught the most off guard, and the Sith would be assured the element of surprise, for Jabba would not be expecting to have to defend his revolting-self at such an ungodly hour. He would make sure the foolish crime lord would not survive their encounter when they finally met face-to-face. 

But then his carefully crafted plans had changed.

The light Vader had so vigilantly monitored flickered.

Panic that the Jedi-turned-Sith would later deny had swelled up inside of him like the hot lavas of Mustafar as the Force rang with impending doom, and without second guessing his now spiraling common sense, he roared at his startled stormtroopers to follow him as he sprinted full speed on protesting prosthetics in the direction of the fortress barring him from his son. 

It had taken only a dozen shots from the, fortunately, close shuttle to break through the laughably weak blast-proof door of the palace and Vader continued his march through the newly cleared entrance with purpose.

The nervous and angry noises of Gamorrean guards was the greeting he received as his silhouette appeared in the illuminated blaster hole and once they were over their initial shock of his presence they charged. 

A  _ snap-hiss _ and a practiced swing took down Vader’s first skill-less adversary and a blood-red glow gleamed in the dimly lit chamber as his lightsaber sprung to life. 

A second guard quickly took the place of the first and as the swine raised his arm to strike downwards onto Vader’s chest plate, he inserted his lightsaber into the Gamorrean’s unprotected stomach. 

Vader slashed, stabbed, and pushed all of his opponents into their early graves, but irritation was quickly setting in as, even with his stormtroopers aiding him, they were cutting down the growing crowd of sentries too slowly, and news of his bold appearance and the sound of the cracked blast door had most likely already made its way to Jabba and the rest of the audience chamber.

And Fett. 

The delay would give the perfect opportunity for the bounty hunter to flee with Luke during the mad scramble that took place.

A shot from a stormtrooper on his left flank was the only thing that stopped a mace from shattering the side of his helmet as the Sith tensed and then froze, ignorant to the continued action taking place around him. 

Luke had acknowledged the bond. 

The connection between father and son was feeble, ready to snap at any moment, but to Vader’s growing anger and despair the pain of every injury suffered was made clear to him as the connection was finally made. 

Rapidly, Luke’s already strained reach was slipping, and in an act of protectiveness and desperation that surprised even Vader himself, he found the boy’s sun-like force signature and  _ clamped  _ onto it like a vice. 

It apparently wasn’t enough however as it seemed whatever energy his son had left was sapped, and the connection ended rather cruelly. Vader physically stumbled backwards from the force of it.

That’s when his carefully structured patience he had attempted to stabilize for days ceased to exist.

Gamorreans and stormtroopers alike were sent flying in every direction like rag dolls as his anger exploded around him and physically expelled itself into the force. 

Carelessly, like swatting flies, anyone who blocked his path immediately found themselves crashing into the hallway’s walls or with a broken neck. He was down the stairs at the entrance to the audience chamber in moments where pandemonium was already beginning to break out.

Jabba was simply sitting there, his reptilian eyes blown wide with fear, and to the Sith Lord’s surprise Organa was there as well, chained and dressed immodestly against the slug’s stomach. 

A second passed where his eyes locked with the horror-stricken princess. 

Another second ticked by where the Hutt opened his mouth to possibly plead for his life. 

And then Jabba’s head was rolling on the floor.

Any remaining sense of calm in the room was lost at the crime boss’s death as screams and shouts of panic filled the room. The members of the chamber began to sprint for the closest exit only for their hopes of escape to be shot down by the waiting wall of stormtroopers. Vader only cared about one man however, yet that one man was not seen attempting to make his own escape. 

Dread pooled in his stomach. 

He stormed over to a particularly wealthy looking ex-member of Jabba’s court and grabbed him by the front of his finely embroidered tunic.

“Where does Jabba keep his prisoners?,” the Sith growled in the man’s quickly paling face. 

A shaky hand pointed in the correct direction and Vader 

let the owner’s body fall painfully to the floor as he set off at a brisk pace to the dungeons, praying to the force to grant him the first favor he had asked for in years. 

That he wouldn’t be too late. 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\O/////////////

As the shock of Fett’s abrupt appearance wore off, Luke quickly scanned the room for Han. 

When he spotted the older man motionless on the ground terror overcame him as he blindly threw himself at the smuggler, desperate to know if Han was-

If his friend was-

If his  _ brother  _ was- 

_ Dead.  _

Pure relief set in when he discovered not only was Han alive, but silently fuming where he laid sprawled on the ground, his eyes being the only thing moving or showing expression on his otherwise emotionless face. The relief sombered somewhat when the cool barrel of a blaster was set to rest against the Jedi’s skull.

“What did you do to him?” Luke asked breathlessly through the pain of his newly jostled ribs.

“Relax, Jedi. It’s just a temporary paralytic to stop him from doing anything rash. Unlike you, I don’t have him under my boot,” Fett replied as smugness practically radiated from his vocoder at the reminder of his ownership of the transmitter. 

A brief moment of eye contact with the still immobile Han showed confusion seeping through anger, but Luke knew explaining would lead to the smuggler’s eventual demise so he simply looked away ashamedly. 

“Now, like I said,” the blaster was pushed harder into Luke’s head in impatience, and he winced, “You’re coming with me,” 

Luke considered his options for a moment. He had planned on willingly letting Fett take him to whoever the bounty hunter was working for, but then  _ his father  _ had arrived. Luke told himself it was simply because Vader had gotten a lead and had come to claim Luke to make him take his rightful place at his side, but…

When the Jedi had opened the bond to deny the truth of Vader being inside the palace, for an instant he had been able to feel the Sith’s emotions. 

He had of course felt the familiar anger that seemed to spill off of his father like a poisonous gas, but there was something else there too. 

He had felt the stirrings of protectiveness and… fear?

At first, the Jedi was confused. Vader was practically an imperial walker in human form. What did he have to be afraid of? But then it hit him.

It wasn’t fear for himself, but fear for  _ Luke. _

Did his father actually... _ care _ ?

Hope began to rise in his chest as he considered what that meant. 

His father still had good in him.

The idea in itself was insane to Luke. Sith are incapable of love or compassion, Master Yoda had told him so on multiple occasions. 

But... his father hadn’t always been a Sith. He was once a Jedi too. He was someone who had fallen in love with his mother and a good man who had been best friends with Ben Kenobi. 

In that moment, the tides of Luke’s inner turmoil that had formed on Bespin changed, and he was determined to save his father from the Dark Side. If given the chance, he would leave the palace with his father to start the Sith’s transformation back into the light.

As if summoned by his thoughts, cold seeped into the recently humid room while the tell-tale sound of a respirator began to echo in the small space, and Luke, with a blaster pointed at his head and a slave transmitter lodged in his neck, realized the situation had just gotten a lot more complicated. 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\O////////////

The sight that greeted Vader when he reached the threshold to his son’s cell would be one he would not forget for the rest of his life. 

There hunched on the ground sat his son, at least he assumed it was his son. The only features of the boy that were recognizable were his small stature and blonde hair. 

Luke’s face was a mess of blood and bruises and it was obvious he had been struck multiple times by both his black eye and bloody nose. The parts of his hair that were not it’s usual blonde were matted and blood soaked from some sort of head injury which the severity was hidden by the red liquid still sluggishly oozing from the wound, and a hand carefully cradling his left side told Vader that he was most likely harboring broken ribs as well. The boy's neck was also a collection of bruises and chaffed looking skin as if he had temporarily shared the same fate as Organa. Putting it plainly, his son looked as though he had been beaten half to death. 

Vader usually steady hands shook, and the cell door creaked.

To complete the rage-inducing picture his son’s tormentor was casually standing there with a blaster held against the young Jedi’s head.

Knowing any sudden movement would only cause further pain to his boy on the ground, he continued to stand motionless in the doorframe while internally imagining hundreds of painful ways to slowly kill the bounty hunter. 

“You’ve made one two many mistakes, Fett,” Vader said as his vocoder dropped a couple octaves lower than normal. The tone alone would send even the

bravest admiral running, but Fett simply chuckled, and shifted so he was no longer between him and Luke with the blaster now pointing at his son’s temple.

“We both know you won’t do anything…  _ Skywalker,” _

The door flew off its hinges.

Before Vader could even respond to being called by that-that  _ name  _ and fly at Fett to demand him who had  _ dared  _ made him privy to that long buried information, the bounty hunter aimed at Luke’s right thigh and fired. 

Luke let out a strangled yelp before it was cut off by his son locking his jaw in an attempt to control any further cries that wanted to escape. His right leg, unable to support itself in his crouched position any longer, collapsed from underneath him and the boy was sent sprawling onto the floor to land painfully on already broken ribs. 

Vader’s fury and concern skyrocketed at the new injury and he instinctively took a step forward before being stopped in his tracks by the blaster once again being aimed at the injured Jedi’s head. 

A stalemate occurred between the two parties where the only sounds that penetrated the silence that had taken over the room were Luke’s panting and Vader’s own distinct breathing. The Sith would have killed the bounty hunter on the spot if he wasn’t so concerned that snapping the man’s neck would take longer than it would for a blaster bolt to enter his son’s brain.

“ _ Where  _ did you learn that name?” Vader instead growled at Fett, anxious to get this confrontation over with so he could get Luke to a medcenter as there was an alarmingly large puddle of blood starting to form underneath him on the floor. 

“It’s classified,” Fett simply replied and Vader could practically see the smirk that was most likely under the man’s mask. 

“Client confidentiality has never been a concern of yours before,” the Sith replied slowly through gritted teeth as he desperately tried to reign in his quickly rising temper to spare Luke from further harm.

“No, but ever since I learned what you truly are, a  _ Jedi,”  _ the hitman practically spat out the word and Vader’s hand itched to ignite his blade, “Not only a Jedi, but the  _ great _ Anakin Skywalker, ‘The Hero with No Fear’, I was not only glad to discover your real name that you’ve now disowned, but also a lead on further leverage over you to finally get vengeance I have long waited for for my father’s murder,”

An image of stone faced Mace Windu slicing off the head of another man in the same armor as the bounty hunter in front of him flashed in front of his eyes.

“When I was then assigned with the task of capturing and retrieving Luke  _ Skywalker _ , the boy who I knew was the son of the Jedi who helped destroy my life, the offer was too good to pass up,” 

Luke who had been staring at, who Vader had just recognized as, Solo immobile on the floor with something akin to panic suddenly snapped to attention at the mention of his name. 

“I will be getting enough credits to last me a lifetime and will get the pleasure of taming and taking in one of my worst enemy’s only child,” Fett finished obviously gloating, and with a flick of wrist he was holding something that Vader had not seen in almost 30 years.

A slave transmitter. 

Sharp denial swept through him as he desperately tried to find some sort of ulterior meaning to what he was seeing, but as he glanced towards Luke, the boy’s averted eyes told him all he needed to know. 

_ ‘My name is Anakin, and I’m a person!’ _

With an inhuman roar, Vader finally gave into the will to attack Fett and launched himself at the smaller man.

He could not believe it.

He  _ would  _ not believe it.

His son,  _ PADME’S SON _ , had been stripped down to be nothing more than mere caddle.

The Force sang with dark intent as the barrel of the blaster held in Fett’s hand was crushed before it could be fired at his unarmed son’s head. 

His son who had been made a slave. _. _

Memories from his past surfaced in tidal waves, but he just simply used it to add more fire to his complete wrath at the reminder of his childhood spent in servitude.

‘ _ One day, I’ll come back and free you, mom,’ _

He had made a solemn vow to himself no one else in his family would suffer the same fate as he and his mother had, but he had failed to save his own son.

It was just another thing that Vader would forever blame himself for.

Vader’s hand finally found its place around Fett’s neck, and he could feel surprise radiating off of the bounty hunter at his rash movement, and Vader grinned darkly. 

A mistake that would be the hitman’s last. 

The Sith reveled in the fear now starting to roll of the man as he slowly began to  _ squeeze _ , and Vader was looking forward to feeling the life slowly drain out of him under his own hand. He only wished it were flesh so he could feel the warmth leaving the corpse. 

A warning from the Force prepared him for the knife sloppily aimed to swipe across his breastplate and Vader easily wrestled it out of the dying man’s hand.

He was not, however, prepared for the electro staff that swung into his back.

In absolute shock and pain, Vader dropped the sputtering bounty hunter and doubled over from the electricity sent into his suit and scar-riddled body by the stormtrooper who had somehow snuck up behind him. 

Warning flashed in the hud of his helmet and before darkness claimed him he heard one word. 

“ _ Father!”  _

The dots all connected at once.

There was only one man who knew his true name, his relationship with the newly knighted Jedi, and who could be responsible for the treason just committed by one of his troops. 

The same man who had recently been growing impatient at his obviously distracted mind. 

And the only man who would have the resources and motivation to snatch his son away from him.

Palpatine. 

And for the first time in nineteen years, Anakin Skywalker crawled his way to the surface and screamed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well we always knew Palpatine was a jacka**. For those of you who guessed it good job! For those of you who didn't don't worry there are still many surprises still in store. I hope you enjoyed reading! As always feel free to comment any thoughts! Thank you for sticking with me!  
> -Mwppff<3


End file.
